


A white rose and a green dragon

by ravenpuff1956



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Tudor Era, And they live in castles, Arranged Marriage, But they also have swords, Character Death, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, It's just not 1920s, Married Life, Miscarriage, Mutual Pining, Or edwardian or Victorian, Prophecy, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Strangers to Lovers, War, cute idiots, major angst, they have magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-05-31 18:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 107,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenpuff1956/pseuds/ravenpuff1956
Summary: Tina curls her hands tight against the bed sheets. They are cold and newly pressed. The room smells new- without mould or dust. A foreign smell to the towers she has been used to. The cells. Tina’s throat moves shakily as she swallows, and she coughs slightly to clear it. This is not how she thought she’d be spending her wedding night.Fire and blood. Three eggs, one cracks, one raven, one witch, two sides, two knifes. Blood, fire and blood.





	1. The wedding night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I know, I know, I haven't finished my last story...But I almost have, and I was just so excited to share this with you, so I'm going to!  
> So welcome to this story! It's set in the past, kinda 'War of the roses' era. Basically there's magic and sword-fights and dragons and love- and I hope everyone enjoys it!  
> We begin here, with Tina, her new husband, and their wedding night.  
> PS. I've never written anything like this before, so feel free to tell me if it's bad!

Tina curls her hands tight against the bed sheets. They are cold and newly pressed. The room smells new- without mould or dust. A foreign smell to the towers she has been used to. The cells. Tina’s throat moves shakily as she swallows, and she coughs slightly to clear it. This is not how she thought she’d be spending her wedding night. 

Not that she thought she’d have any wedding night. Queenie had enough children for the both of them. And no one had shown interest in the oldest Goldstein sister anyway, even in France where morals and ideals were looser than in England. No man wanted a woman who acted like a knight most of the time, complete with short hair, pants and a sword. They wanted women like Queenie, who dressed in silks, played the harp and used words as weapons. 

But if she did ever get married, Tina assumed it would be for love, or trust. At least someone she had chosen. Not a man she’d never met before, chosen by her sister to strengthen her rebellion. The united Kowalski's and Scamander’s would surely crush Grindelwald under their heels. Unfortunately, the leaders were already married, and their children too young for their schemes. Luckily, for both sides, they happened to have two grown siblings, who had no particular power or means to fight the match. 

The first time Tina had seen her betrothed she’d been walking down the aisle towards him. 

Tina’s stomach grumbles irritably. She ignores it, the anxious twisting in her throat louder than her hunger. They’d had a magnificent feast. Tina had been living on vegetables and gruel for months, and her mouth had watered at the delicious meat and sugar dusted tarts that surrounded her. Yet, Tina couldn’t find it in herself to eat a single bite. Neither had her new husband. Newton had drunk more than he’d eaten, picking at his food in a way that would turn any lady to shame. 

Their siblings had eaten and talked enough for the both of them. Queenie and the Lady Leta had traded gossips and fashion advice with spirit. Jacob and Lord Theseus had laughed so loudly, Tina thought at one point the roof would come down. The newly-weds had sat in silence, as the cheery chatter swelled around them. Every now and again they’d steal glances at one another. Tina could feel Newton’s eyes on her as she studied the tablecloth. She too felt her eyes drag to his wiry frame. He was handsome man, that much was clear. But her time on this earth had taught her that a handsome man, even a quiet one, could be just as dangerous as any other. And there must be a reason why he had also been exiled from his court. 

Although, Tina smiles grimly, staring round at her glamorous new lodgings. The mahogany furnishings, the silken tapestries, the roaring first her new servants had lit. It was much nicer than her last home. She had lived in a claustrophobic room for a year. Newton had an entire castle as a cage. 

Tina stands and her great dress curves around her. It was the colour of ivory, made from the finest silk she’s ever felt in her life. White roses lie in her hair like a crown, and both her dress and her skin are as soft as petals. Tina looks like an English rose. She feels like an English puddle. For herself, her family; The entire country knows what will happen tonight. Her and her new husband will go to bed. 

The sound of a door creaking makes her jump. It’s not her front door or even her servants smaller one. Instead it’s a secret one; near the head of her bed, partly obscured by the over flowing crimson drapes of her canopy. And from such secret passage comes her husband- first his floppy ginger hair, then the rest of him. Newton Scamander. 

“You scared me,” Tina gasps softly, her already frantic heart racing even harder. 

She tries to offer him a smile, but her lips are stiff and refuse to yield. Newton does not even seem to notice. He bobs aimlessly by her bedside, looking unsure and small in the candlelight. He’s shed his navy velvet coat already, leaving him in just his mustard trousers and white shirt. The light colours make his reddened cheeks stand out starkly; though if they're from embarrassment or drink Tina cannot tell. Probably both. 

“They have left,” Newton announces in his awkward manner, “our siblings and the court,” Tina once again starts in shock. It was well known, that at the very least on a wedding night, the friends and families of the newly-weds should stay. If for nothing else to make sure the marriage was consummated.

“All? Even Queenie and Jacob? Theseus and Leta?” Tina asks bewildered, her voice high and thready. 

She had not expected this. She expected hidden ears behind every door. She expected rowdy banter over the breakfast table, and awaiting eyes stalking her waistline. Tina’s lips finally relax in relief. Newton, as if sensing her thoughts, also smiles. Tina had not seen him do so before- Mercy Lewis, he is handsome. 

“Yes, I made sure of it,” Newton gives her a quick nod, before dropping her gaze. Her husband, Tina had so far found, was not prone to eye contact. 

Tina takes her lip between her teeth. Then she makes her way over to her small wooden table. Servants had left them soft white bread, cheese and fruit. They had also laid out a hefty jug of wine and two golden cups. Tina pours them two large helpings. Liquid courage won’t be enough to steady her nerves, but it’s a good start. Plus, her husband has just given her a gift. A kind and considerate one, one she’d never even considered occurring. Tina had been there at her sisters bedding. Newton must have been at his brothers. It was a terrifying, but simple fact of life. 

And Newton had dispelled it, one of her deepest fears with a simple flick of his hand. Tina wants to give him something- even if it’s something he could easily get himself. 

“A drink?” She asks, offering up a glass with a bravado she didn’t know she possessed. 

“Please,” Newton says quickly, and walks over to join her. They’re the same height. Perhaps he’s a little taller, but Tina will never have to incline her neck to look up at him. He’s right there. Easy to reach. 

Newton takes the cup from her, and their fingertips brush lightly together. They both take a sharp intake of breath, before turning away- pink faced. Tina raises her glass shyly.   
“To my husband,” She toasts, smiling softly. Newt raises his own. 

“My wife,” He says, his voice rough. Their glasses clink together. Tina takes a large sip, letting the wine flow down her throat. It’s sweeter than it should be, someone must have added honey. She can feel Newton’s eyes on her as she drinks and Tina looks tentatively at him over the edge of her glass. 

“You are…beautiful Porpentina,” Newton pronounces; not particularly smoothly, but so genuinely that Tina blushes, instead of thanking him. 

“Tina,” She says. Tina can’t seem to get her voice louder than a whisper. Her husband hears her though, and he blanches anxiously. 

“I mean, everyone calls me Tina,” She hastens to set him straight. Newton gives an obvious sigh of relief. Tina takes a deeper sip from her wine.

“Newt,” He stammers and Tina halts her drinking. Only partially because she’s drained her glass, “That’s what everyone calls me,”

“Right,” Tina says nervously, swirling the word around her tongue, “Newt,” They stare at each other silently for a moment. Then he begins to chuckle, as deep throaty chuckle that makes her blink warily at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Newt laughs wearily, running tired hand over his face, “It’s just- we’ve gotten married, without even knowing what we like to be called,” Tina snorts ungraciously into her cup, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of their circumstance. 

“That shows promise for a long and happy marriage I suppose,” She quips wryly. Newt glances at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Stranger things have happened,” He murmurs, before taking a long drink for his goblet. Tina fills up her own again, with shaky fingers. 

“You have a wonderful home,” She tells him honestly. It’s true. The small grey stone castle, is fairy-tale in its manner. It’s almost as if it’s grown up from the Scottish moors where it lies, and purple vines entwine it’s walls. It was a homely place, full of knick-knacks and well-loved furniture. Queenie had wanted the wedding to take place a Hogwarts- the home of the resistance. Tina was glad it hadn’t. 

“Thank you,” Newt says smiling happily. He points with his cup hand to the door he came through, “My rooms just through there, if you ever need anything or get lost or something,” He trails off uncertainly. Tina must look stricken. She can feel her face muscles and they’re as stiff as a board. She goes to take another sip of wine, but Newt stops her with a gentle hand round her wrist. He sets both their cups on the table, and takes Tina’s other hand. His fingers are clammy between her own. 

“I’m not going to force myself on you Tina,” Newt says, looking truly disgusted by the very thought. He fingers the ring that sits on her finger. He has an identical one on his own left hand. Both are made of soft silver and are nothing more than simple bands. They twinkle innocently in the candlelight. Yet, both rings hold so much power. Tina nods stiffly, and Newt squeezes her hands tightly. 

“I mean it Tina,” He says, suddenly sounding fierce, “I’m yours, just as much as you are mine,” Newt takes a step closer. The flowers around her forehead brush his own. Tina finally gets a look at his eyes. They are green, gold, brown, blue, somehow all at once. They’re the prettiest thing she’s ever seen in her life. Newt takes a deep breath. 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” He whispers tenderly, his thumb stroking her wrist.

“I want,” Tina begins, her voice cracking. Her gaze drops to his lips and then back up again. Her joints crack as Newt tightens his grip around her. Tina sighs heavily, letting her eyelids flutter shut. Newt presses a kiss to her lips, as light as a feather. Even at the briefest touch, a warmth blossoms in her chest. They break apart, eyes wide. Newt seems just as affected as her; his chest heaving as if he’d just run a mile. 

“Merlin’s beard,” He murmurs, his magical eyes bright, “Tina can I?” 

“Please,” Tina begs and Newt sweeps her up again, with much more enthusiasm. Tina returns the kiss just as easily, teasing her fingers into his hair. The deep hum has returned, buzzing contentedly throughout her veins. They did not know each other, but it was if their bodies did and were greeting each other after years apart. Newt’s hands are pulling desperately at her hips, pressing her flush against him. His mouth is hot, hard and relentless as he pushes her backwards to her bed. 

“Newt, wait,” Tina gasps, attempting to break free of him. He lets her go straight way, deep shame embedded on his features. Her husband wrings his hands together anxiously, his chin at his chest, babbling hopelessly.

“Sorry, oh god Tina, I’m sorry,” Newt mutters hopelessly. Tina’s heart aches for her husband as she realises what he must’ve thought. Hastily, with one smooth movement, she removes her crown of roses, letting her hair hang freely around her shoulders. It had grown in her months of captivity, and now fell in loose waves below her breasts. 

“My dress,” Tina says, caressing the delicate fabric, “It’s too nice to be ruined, don’t you think?” Newt’s mouth falls open indelicately, as she wets her lips. He clears his throat, moving once more towards her. 

“Honestly? No,” Newt states carelessly. Tina can practically see all the ways he’s currently ripping it off her in his eyes. Tina chokes on her air that surrounds them, which is suddenly much too warm to properly breath in. One of Newt’s hands raises up to caress her cheek, and now Tina is the one to stutter weakly. His fingers are rough to the touch, as if from years of work. As they scratch down her neck, something begins to simmer in her stomach, pooling in her groin. 

“But my wife cares for it?” Newt asks tenderly. It’s all Tina can do to nod. She doesn’t think she’d have a voice, even if she’d had words at that moment. 

“Turn around,” Her husband commands softly. Tina does so eagerly, moving her hair to one side to reveal her wedding dresses laces. Gentle fingers touch the nape of her neck and Tina gasps, leaning back into his touch. Newt plays almost curiously, with the short curls that has escaped from Tina’s hands. Then moves down, pulling at the golden necklace at her throat. 

“My mothers,” Tina finally finds her voice, though it’s faint and trembling, “please don’t take it off,” 

“Of course,” Newt whispers sweetly, dropping the chain immediately. She stands, lonesome for a moment, waiting anxiously for her husband to touch her again. He does. But it’s not Newt’s fingers, but his lips that caress her neck. 

“Newt,” Tina gasps and gropes behind her. Her own fingers tighten around his pants, hugging him closer. Newt chuckles, his warm breath dancing along her skin.   
She feels him beginning to pull at her laces, unwinding them quickly. Her dress loosens around her shoulders, and Tina joins him in dragging it enthusiastically down her waist. 

The fabric pools in a silken puddle at her feet. Tina drops down, and carefully places it on her bedside table, on top of her wand. She turns slowly, nervously. Her remaining garments are both flimsy and indecent. Her underdress is thin and short, ending in the middle of her thighs. Tina’s breasts are pushed up and over its neck line by her corset. Newt seems almost gravitated towards her, like she’s the sun. Her knees knock together as his eyes flow over her, easily as water in a stream. Tina sits on her bed, her legs suddenly weak. Newt places his hands gently on her knees, his fingers spreading up like flowers stems up her exposed thighs. Tina tingles, the space between her legs pounding. She takes her lip gently between her teeth again, as he presses upwards, underneath the fabric. Newt’s eyes are glassy, the beautiful colour almost obscured by black. His own bottom lip shakes, and he presses his forehead against her own. 

“Is this alright?” Newt asks softly, watching her tentatively from under his fringe. Tina takes a shuddering breath. 

“Yes,” She rasps, bringing his head forward for almost an innocent kiss. Tina can feel Newt smile and she smiles back as they break apart. Her heart is full of hope. Tina had spent months filled of fear of this day, his night. But perhaps she needn’t have. Perhaps it’ll all be fine. She reaches out to take the hem of Newt’s shirt between her fingers. 

“No,” He cries out suddenly. So suddenly, and almost in a terrified manner that Tina jumps backwards, her other hand falling off his cheek. Newt’s eyes are wide and fearful, and he turns his head away from her anxious eyes.

“No, not my shirt, not yet,” He mutters to her non-verbal question. Both of their eyes linger on his pants, where a noticeable bulge sits, pressing against its ties. Tina’s fingers clench thin air. She aches for it, and yet she’s afraid. Her body is frozen in indecision. Newt stares down at her, waiting. 

“I’m sorry,” Tina tries to let out a light hearted chuckle, “I have never done this before,” She blushes self-consciously, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Really?” Newt asks. It’s said innocently, but his voice his brushed with disbelief. Tina’s hope disappears with a pop. 

“Excuse me?” She asks in an entirely different tone. One that sparks with anger. Tina pulls down her under-things, and clambers higher up the bed and away from him. Newt’s mouth hangs open, his mouth moving soundlessly. Tina crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for him to come up with whatever explanation he’s going to come up with. 

“I’m sorry Tina,” He eventually splutters, “But my brother told me…” Newt trails off uncertainly dipping his head, and Tina feels like screaming into her palms.

She knows exactly what Lord Theseus told his brother. That she was a seductress. A woman who had sold herself to buy a ship, and had sailed said ship from France to England, unmarried and unchaperoned; her only companion on board being a single man of considerable status. And why shouldn’t Theseus have told him? Why was it strange that Newt believed it? That was what was official after all. It was almost better than the actual truth. Was it a crime that Tina thought, for once, that someone would believe her? That her husband, no matter how much of a stranger he was, would take her at her word? It’s not even Newt that has betrayed her. It’s her own damn mind, that wanted to hope, wanted to believe. And it’s this enraging knowledge, that causes Tina’s anger to take hold of her tongue. 

“I know exactly what you thought,” She speaks up scathingly, her vision turning red, “That I’m a loose woman,” Newt looks like a dear in the headlights. He neither moves or speaks, but Tina can read the truth in his eyes. 

“Well, I’m not, I’m innocent,” Tina spits, angry tears pricking at her eyes, “I didn’t call you ‘a wild man who sleeps with beasts,’, why couldn’t you show me the same respect?” She regrets her words as they come out of her mouth. But it's too late, and they hang in the air like poison. Newt takes a step backwards, his face closing over. The humid air between them has cooled to a chill. 

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks quietly. ‘No,’ Tina thinks, but she nods. For some reason tears keep dropping out of her eyes. She pats them away discreetly, as Newt walks slowly back to his door. Tina’s not facing him, but she can feel him behind her and hears the creak of a hinge opening. 

“Sorry,” She whispers. Newt says nothing. But the door closes gently, leaving her alone to cry.


	2. Brotherly chats and inopportune meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Newt ignores Theseus, and runs into his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Next chapter up with Newt having an uncomfortable chat with Theseus and an awkward run in with Tina. Please read the disclaimer before reading and I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Disclaimer; Some things are said in this chapter that are definitely not appropriate or right and I certainly don't condone them. However this story is set very far in the past, and I'm trying to be historically realistic when thinking about how they would think about and approach marriage back then. I hope everyone can be understanding in this fact.  
> This disclaimer applies to the whole story, so if you're not comfortable with anything you read, please stop reading.

Newt grounds his teeth as he pelts the lys beetles. Matilda his mooncalve, he’d this morning discovered, was pregnant. She deserved more than mooncalve pellets. However, his brother’s words had him smashing his creatures treat into inedible dust.

“How the hell did you manage not to bed her?” Theseus states incredulously. Newt flexes his hand angrily around the pestle, shooting a glare over to his old worn notebook.

They’d charmed to matching ones, the day of Newt’s exile, over ten years ago now. The brothers had been born too far apart to be close, but the thought of not being together had scared them beyond belief. So on his final day, before he’d been given his mare and the key to this old castle, they’d made sure they’d always have a way to speak to each other. Theseus’s stern words were written in his neat and precise hand, and were also spoken out loud in his brother’s portentous voice. 

“I meant to,” Newt mumbles awkwardly, kicking a box under his work bench in frustration. 

That was another problem, on his slowly expanding list. Seeing his intended walking down the aisle, he’d been breathless at her beauty. When speaking to her he’d found a mystery, a secret hidden beneath a wall of stone. And kissing her. Merlin’s beard, kissing her. Newt had dissolved in Tina, like sugar in a hot cup of tea. But with a slip of his tongue and a slash of hers, it had all come crashing down. Newt had woken this morning, alone and unsatisfied. It was probably for the best. They don't even know each other after all, and Newt was never going to force himself on her. On anyone for that matter. But an unconsummated marriage isn't a marriage at all; At least, Newt thinks with a grimace, to everyone else's eyes. And if Grindlewald's cronies ever got wind of what didn't take place last night...well the whole rebellion could be at stake. 

“You meant to.” Theseus jibes back, Newt flushes. His jaw had been slack from the moment he saw Tina, and his brother knew it; teasing him throughout the feast. He can almost hear Theseus rolling his eyes, “so why didn’t you?” 

‘I called her a loose woman, that’s why,’ Newt’s subconscious supplies unhelpfully. He brushes these unfortunate thoughts away, shame faced. Everyone knew why Porpentina Goldstein, had been exiled. Her own sister had made the announcement after all. There had even been gossip of a bastard at one stage. But after speaking to Tina last night… Newt had never met someone with such open eyes before. They reflected her every emotion, without guard or façade. Newt already had the opinion that his new bride was not one who easily lied. He believed her, despite knowing her for less than a day. If Tina Scamander said she was a virgin, then she was. And Newt had insulted her. 

“Have you ever tried to make love to a stranger?” Newt asks his brother dully, refusing to answer the question. 

“I have, and I have succeeded,” Theseus replies, equally wryly, “and we’re not asking you to ‘make love’ to her, we’re asking you to 'have' her,”

“Theseus!” Newt exclaims angrily, his blood climbing to boiling point, “Tina is my wife, treat her with respect,” 

“Tina? Who is Tina?” His brother asks half apologetic half curious. Now Newt’s the one to roll his eyes. He tips his now ruined beetles into the bin with vigour.

“Porpentina, Tina, it’s not a particularly big reach Theseus,” Newt sighs humourlessly, resting his hands on his workbench tiredly. His new ring, tight on his finger, shines bright. Tina hadn’t come down to breakfast this morning. It bothered him more than it should have. For the last few months he had been dreading the day he’d have to share his table. But this morning he’d waited a good hour to see if his wife would ever reveal herself. She had not. 

Theseus is silent. Newt waits. Then he waits some more, watching as his niffler chases her offspring round and round his sheds floorboards. 

“Look, Newt, all jokes aside,” His brother begins gravely, “Leta and I need you to do this,” 

“And why is that?” Newt huffs disinterestedly, flicking golden coins at his creatures, carelessly letting them run amok. Their destruction calms his nerves, even though he knows it's going to be a pain in the arse for him to clean later. 

“Lady Queenie has already begun her scheming,” Theseus says softly, as if the walls could hear them, “Her husband is affable enough, but your new wife’s sister is ruthless and her views are unshakeable,” 

Newt squeezes his eyes tight. Has his brother met Leta? Pot calling the kettle black. The nifflers seem to sense his rage, and scuttle out of the shed, tails between their legs. Newt’s hands tremble. He’s sick of being a chess piece in their games. Why can’t he-now they just be left alone? 

“And?” Newt asks, playing dumb. He knows exactly what his brother wants from him. He can yank the words out himself. Theseus lets out a growl which heaves with frustration. 

“Get her pregnant Newton," Theseus orders him fiercely. Newt opens his mouth to object, but his brother somehow understands what he's going to say.

"I'm would never ask you to force yourself on her, you know that, but you two have got to give our cause a babe we can all rally behind,” His brother sighs in a defeated manner, “Or we may as well hand ourselves over to Grindlewald now,” 

Newt threads his fingers roughly through his hair, pulling them to a breaking point. He knows he’s right. They’ll never defeat the silver haired oppressor without being properly unified. Even now they're just barely a band of children who have pinky promised not to hurt each other until after the big bully has been squashed. But that doesn’t stop the churn of his stomach at the thought of any child of his being pulling into this mummers farce. 

“Goodbye Theseus,” Newt says loudly, ignoring his brother’s indignant spluttering’s as he snaps the book shut. 

“Merlin’s beard,” He grumbles, throwing the book on the ground with a slam. Yet a picture of Tina swims to his mind. Her gentle smile, her creamy skin. Last night Tina had almost melted herself to him. Newt can almost see her when he closes his eyes. He grits his teeth. There’s no use fanning the flames. Tina had turned him down. That’s all there is to it. 

He plods out into the yard, focusing his mind away from his memories, as he concentrates on filling his creature’s troughs. Newt stares round at his life’s work, content. ‘What would Tina think?’ He wonders, ‘Could he even have a wife who didn’t have a love of beasts?'  
'Well I suppose it’s too late if I already do,' Newt chuckles to himself wryly. His mirth is quickly halted by the tell-tale snap of his cases locks being undone.  
Newt races back to his shed. It could be Dougal, his manservant, who knows everything and everyone. He seemed to know how to open the case correctly before Newt even had to open his mouth. But some of the servants were more likely to let every man and his dog out into the open, allowing chaos to rummage the castle. Newt doesn’t think having his creatures let loose in his home would be a bad idea at all- it’s the other humans inhabiting it he’s concerned about, and all of their possible reactions. He climbs up the stairs deftly, ready to give a telling off to which ever housekeeper was currently being nosy. But it’s not a servant Newt comes nose to nose with. It’s his wife. 

“Newt,” Tina cries out, one hand pressed to her chest in shock. 

“Tina,” Newt whispers, taking her in as her chest rapidly rises and falls. 

Her long dark hair spills around her shoulders. It’s free of any elaborate headdress- in fact Tina is entirely free of jewels and finery. Her only jewellery is her mother’s necklace, which is hidden between the valley of her breasts. Tina’s dress is made out of red velvet, and it hangs off her shoulders indelicately, showing off her creamy skin to perfection. It’s been brought in at the waist, showing off her hips. Tina looks both demure and sexy, and Newt can’t seem to take his eyes off her. She seems to notice this fact, her cheeks heating to the same colour as her dress. Her blush flows down to her neck, and Newt swallows harshly, his mouth suddenly dry. He hops out of his case, and hastily closes the lid. 

“What’ve you got in there?” Tina asks plaintively, her dark eyes lingering curiously on the case. Newt takes a step closer to it, kicking it further under the desk. They’re currently standing in his official ‘study’- only a few choice servants know about the secret door which is one of the book selves. 

“Nothing,” Newt says quickly. Too quickly. Tina glares suspiciously, taking a step closer. He lets out a silent prayer that he doesn’t smell like dung. 

“Nothing,” Tina repeats unbelievingly, placing her hands on her hips. 

Newt looks nervously behind him. His case sits, seemingly innocently on the stoned ground. He’s caught with the sudden need to tell her. To bring her down into his case, show her his world. Tina is his wife. Surely she would find them at least interesting, if not wondrous. Her stern glare cuts into him. Tina’s smile last night was beautiful. Newt can see no sign of it today. Her eyes show dark depths of curiosity. But the court was curious too, after Newt brought back his creatures from his adventures on the continent. And they had no problem cursing them, spitting on them afterwards. After ‘it’ happened. 

To see Tina’s face twist into the same derision... Newt’s stomach twists with unhappiness. He can’t bear the thought. Doesn’t wish to see, not now. Not while she’s standing in front of him looking so pretty. Newt wishes to pretend, for a few weeks more that she will love them. He wants to hang on to that thought; before his dreams are dashed to ashes. 

“Well?” Tina says, slicing through Newt’s nightmares. Her eyebrows are narrowed and there’s cute little creases drawn into her forehead. Quick as a tiger she jumps behind him. Newt watches, wide eyed as her hand reaches out towards his case, her long crimson sleeves dragging on the ground. 

“No!” Newt shouts, in a sudden fit of terror. He takes Tina by the shoulder and pushes her backwards and away. She falls with a hard crack against the blue stone. 

Tina’s face is consorted in pain, rage, and Newt realises with a jolt; fear. ‘A wild man who sleeps with beasts,’ His wife is afraid of him. 

Newt stutters his apologies as Tina climbs unsteadily to her feet. She tucks her hair safety behind her ears, her face a mask. 

“I’ll leave you be,” Tina says softly, dropping into a short curtsy. Then she briskly leaves the room, her skirts brushing out the door behind her. 

Newt collapses on his desk, and places his head in his hands. Merlin’s beard, what has he done? Frustrated tears burn at his eyelids at the truth of the matter.

He wants Tina to like him. 

Not because of Theseus. Not because of their duty as a married couple. Not because of anything other than the fact that; He likes her. Really likes her. Newt wants to be at least friends with his new life partner. But now he's gone and bunged it up again. He groans loudly, the aggravated sound vibrating round the walls. How to go about it? It's been so long since Newt's made a friend he doesn't even believe he knows how. He wasn't even good at it back then. 

"I must do something for her," Newt promises out loud to himself, nodding slowly, "or we should do something together, something she'll like,"

He sits back on his seat, mulling it over; like he's a cow chewing his cud. But what? That is the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	3. A ride in the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Tina go for a horse ride, and adventures ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Back again, with a cuter and exciting chapter. Hope everyone likes it. 
> 
> Disclaimer; This chapter involves events of minor character death. If it effects you negatively in anyway, please stop reading.

To my new sister, Mrs Porpentina Scamander,

I hope married life is agreeable to you. Newt is a darling, and I can’t imagine he’s been treating you poorly. We barely met at your wedding, but your delightful sister informs me you are the sweetest creature on earth, so I imagine you are both getting along splendidly. To which both myself and Theseus give our incredible thanks. Your match is vital to our cause; just as important as your beautiful sister’s schemes. 

Sorry it has taken me so long to write to you. I’m afraid we have been marvellously busy. The Kowalski’s have managed to procure half a dozen new matches to follow your own and we’re going to be simply a-washed with weddings. I don’t know whether your sister is too happy with me unfortunately. But please tell her I just couldn’t find any pure-blooded matches to spare to her muggles. She clearly was put out, but if a man or woman gives the promise of their hand to someone else they should keep it- don’t you think so? 

In any case I hope we should be friends and I would very much like it, Porpentina, if you would become a pen-pal of mine. Say hello to your husband from me and his brother, and if there’s anything you need- anything at all- feel free to ask. 

God be with you,

Your loving sister, Leta Scamander.

PS. Newt, it’s your brother. Answer my notes, I know you’re bloody getting them. And now you’ve forced me to pen the word ‘bloody’ to your wife. Sorry Mrs Scamander, give my brother a kiss for me. 

Tina brings her mare, Charlotte, to a nice trot. The pure white mare responds skilfully, and she sighs as the cold Scottish breeze flows deliciously over her skin. She would deeply love to press her heels into the horse’s side, urging her to a gallop: to fly across the moors like the wind itself. But Tina is riding side saddle. And instead of her old scandalous riding gear- pants- she is in petticoats. Not quite sure of how her new husband would react to such a display, Tina settled on a more traditional approach. Her blue dress is too pretty to be splashed with mud, and her hair is loose and long, instead of tied up sensibly. And besides, Newt had invited her along so they could talk. 

Or at least that’s what he suggested at breakfast this morning. However so far they’d been plodding along in silence. Newt is tall ahead, on his own chestnut mare; Bunty. His mysterious case is tied to his saddle and bobs along behind him. Tina cocks her head her curiosity once again aroused. What on earth is inside of it? It clearly must be important to her husband, if her bruised tail-bone is anything to go by. But what? Snarls and krakens? Mountains of gold? A mistress? Tina gulps down an absurd wave of jealousy. The sun shines through Newt's hair, turning the reddish colour to gold. Sometimes he seems more fae than human. Perhaps that's what he's hiding. 

For he's clearly hiding something. 

Sighing loudly, Tina clicks her tongue and races up to walk beside him. She peers over at her husband. Newt’s eyes are closed and he’s leaning so far to the left, she’s afraid he’ll fall off. Tina’s mouth twists into a soft smile. In some ways he looks ridiculous. But Newt also looks so content, so intense in his conviction, that she can’t help but be in awe of him. There’s just something about him that draws her eye. 

Holding on tightly to her reins, Tina too leans slightly to the side, closing her eyes and letting Charlotte guide her own path. At first all she can hear is the loud clop of the two horses.  
But the harder she listens- letting herself fall fully to the darkness- the more she hears. Tina hears various caws of birds, the rustle of leaves, her and Newt’s slow steady breaths. And most wonderful of all, the breeze that flows through the heather that lies beneath their feet like a blanket. It almost sounds like the sea- like waves brushing over sand in neat breaks. Tina smiles wider, leaning closer. Mercy Lewis, it’s been too long since she’s last seen the sea. She hangs for a moment, and for once, for once in such a long time. Tina’s at peace. 

Then she falls off her horse. 

“Oh god,” Tina moans from the ground, her vision suddenly obscured by dirt and grass, “Mercy Lewis,”

She sits up slowly to see Newt racing towards her on foot, his eyes wide and worried. Tina tries to stand, but she landed poorly on her hip and she is forced to flop down again with a harsh gasp. 

“Are you alright Tina?” Newt asks, bending down to her level. The two horses clop over as well, their long faces interested in their master and mistresses’ strange behaviour. 

“I’m fine,” Tina waves away their concerns, “I just… fell,” 

Newt’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline. A small soft smile curls at his lips and for once he actually looks her in the eye. Their green glint sparkles in barely hidden amusement. 

“You fell,” Newt repeats slowly, and Tina feels her cheeks heat up in shame. 

“I was just copying you,” She snaps defensively, leaning to one side to prove her point.

“Ahh,” Newt says to her collarbones, his smile growing wider, “so it’s my fault,”

Tina’s fingers twitch with the urge to strangle him. 

“No!” She cries, flinging her hands up in the air. Charlotte walks behind her, and snuffles her hair gently. It tickles and Tina giggles despite herself, her frustration slowly ebbing. 

It’s easier to do in the open air and with someone to talk with. It was almost impossible in her castle cell, where she only had four walls to scream to. Here, with the giant blue blanket of sky above her, and the smell of dirt up her nose, it’s much easier to breath. To calm. 

“I’m sorry,” Tina mumbles. She rubs Charlotte’s nose thankfully with the back of her hand, offering up an apologetic smile to her husband. Newt inclines his head, his cheeks surprisingly pink. Probably from the cool breeze. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” Tina continues, eager to disperse their silence, “thank you for bringing me,” 

Newt looks up at the sky. She watches as his neck extends upwards. It’s incredibly freckly. Tina bites her lip. 

“I brought you out here because it’s finally sunny,” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head, his fringe flopping over his face,” I’m afraid you’ll see a lot of dark days living with me,” 

Tina laughs along with him. Her week in Scotland has proved his words to be gospel. Only two out of the seven have been without drizzle and this has been the only day the sun has peaked through the clouds. But her laughter sub-sides when she notices Newt looks rather embarrassed about the fact- Tina stops instantly. Her hand unthinkingly reaches out to take his own. But she chickens out half-way through, her fingers merely brushing over his skin in what she hopes is a comforting manner. Newt freezes beneath her, and Tina can see how his jaw ticks with tension. 

“I love it here,” She tells him honestly, looking around her picturesque surroundings in wonder, “I’m surprised you even asked me to come along, it would’ve been more peaceful by yourself,” Tina trails off uncertainly. They’ve reached dangerous territory. Her silver band suddenly feels heavy round her finger. She goes to pull away, but to her surprise Newt stops her. He’s braver than her, and slides their fingers together. His hand is warm, and Tina for some reason, can’t look at him. 

“I wanted you to,” Newt says quietly. His hand shifts in her own, his dry calluses brushing up against her sweaty palm, “I wanted to apologise, for yesterday,”  
Tina looks up. Newt is staring at her earnestly, desperately. To her surprise Tina finds she can understand what he is trying to silently communicate perfectly. 

‘I’m sorry,’  
‘It’s fine,’  
‘Are you sure? I wouldn’t want-‘  
‘I’m sure Newt, I promise,’ 

They smile at each other. Then stop. Then just stare. Tina nods dimly in the awkward silence. Newt goes back to studying the grass. Desperate for something to say, Tina blurts out the first thing that comes to her head.

“Why were you riding with your eyes shut?” She asks, loud and quick. 

“Oh I was…” Newt begins brightly, but then shakes his head, focusing back on the dirt, “It doesn’t matter, you’ll probably find it boring,” 

“I won’t,” Tina promises stubbornly, turning to give him her full attention. 

Newt looks up at her half-heartedly and she squeezes his hand encouragingly. His eyes widen happily at her clear interest. 

“If you’re sure,” He says apprehensively, and Tina nods enthusiastically and he grins, “All right then, I was-“

“There they are!” A rough voice shouts. Their horses’ whinny, terrified, and Charlotte bolts away as arrows begin to fly over their heads. Tina bounds up, Newt close behind her, watching in horror as four burly men bound towards the, their weapons drawn. All muggle weapons  
.  
“Ah, the newly-weds,” A large man jeers, his face partially obscured with a wild black beard. He saunters towards them easily despite his monstrous sword, “and they're holding hands as well, how sweet,”

Tina quickly looks down to where her hand is still wound tightly around Newt’s. He’s holding her equally as hard, his knuckles white at the joints. They both blush like maidens, but continue to hold on to each other.

“Whoa, ho, ho,” A blonde man caws while re-loading his crossbow with an ugly clink, “perhaps their little match was consummated after all,”

Angry tears sting at Tina’s eyes. She steps forward, drawing her wand despite Newt’s soft negative exclamation. She waves it menacingly at the men, who falter suddenly turning stern. 

“I wouldn’t do that little lady,” Black beard says seriously. 

“And why not?” Tina spits, refusing to back down. 

The man with the bow and arrows, proudly wearing a long, swaying, ponytail, addresses her coldly.

“Because you, a ‘muggle lover’, would be attacking me ‘a muggle’ with magic,” He shrugs carelessly, plucking the string of his bow with a twang, “a bit ironic for a member against Grindelwald’s cause wouldn’t you say?” 

“Not to mention unfair,” The blonde quips, smirking. 

The others laugh as Tina’s wand falls limp between her fingers as she realises the harsh truth to his words. She stashes her wand abashedly back into her pocket within her skirts. The fabric sways around her, brushing casually against the sharp blades she’s strapped to her thighs. Newt has a thin sword hanging loosely around his belt. Tina prays to god he knows how to use it. 

“What do you want?” Newt asks quietly, his voice free from her anxiety. 

The last, weedy man, complete with a thin moustache, twirls a sharp knife between his fingers.

“To kill you,” He graces them with a wild smile, admiring his knife genteelly, “before you produce any off spring that the country can rally behind,”

“Since we haven’t produced any yet, could you let us go?” Newt answers him lightly. The men laugh again, clearly amused. But Tina’s heart thuds harder as they slowly fall into a defensive position, holding their weapons higher, readying to strike. 

“I’m afraid not, my lord,” Black beard says, his sword glinting brilliantly in the sun.  
Grimacing, Tina gives Newt’s hand a final squeeze. Then she lets him go, ripping open the skirts of her dress with one strong tug. She grips a dagger round its hilt in sweaty fingers. But her training is intact and her aim is true, and it lands with a dull thud in the archer’s chest. He falls to the ground lifeless. 

“Tina!” Newt cries, his voice breaking in distress, as the remaining men jump towards them. 

She rolls her eyes aggressively, running up to meet their attackers. Her understanding goes against her actions, but it’s safer fighting close with only one knife and her fists as weapons. This proves true as Tina’s first opponent reaches her with a speed she did not anticipate, and it’s all she can do to punch the blonde in the face. He drops his crossbow in shock and she kicks it away haphazardly. 

Tina blows her long hair out of her face in annoyance, wishing desperately it was short, like it used to be. The weedy one, with the knife approaches from her left, and Tina turns, pulling out her final dagger expertly. They play cat and mouse for a minute, ducking and weaving against each-others lethal stabs. He’s confident, Tina can tell by the way he smirks at her. His smirk freezes when she slashes successfully across his throat, and he drops to his knees, fingers slippery with blood as he presses them uselessly to his wound. Tina turns away from the sight, filled with disgust and misery at his wretched gurgling. She’s heard worse, but it’s never nice to hear a man die. Especially when it’s by her own hand.

She surveys the scene. The blonde has found his cross-bow that had been hidden in the heather. He’s busily locking in a bolt, eyeing her off with a dangerous look in his eye; almost licking his chops in anticipation. Tina turns briefly, ready to stalk towards her prey, but stops for a second to make sure Newt is dealing with his foe okay. 

But to her horror she finds he’s not. Her husband’s sword is dull with misuse, and his parry’s are awkward and without strength. Black beard’s strikes are equally as weak. But it’s out of shock, not lack of skill. As Tina watches, her jaw weak with worry, she notices how black beard's attack slowly becomes stronger, his strike more precise. Newt is slowly backed into Bunty, his loyal stead staying by him. Her husband’s brow is covered in sweat as he persists determinedly, not letting the swordsman reach the beast; where his case bounces freely on her back. 

Heart in her mouth, Tina leaps towards them. She grasps his greasy hair fiercely and pulls it backwards, snapping his head towards her. She shuts her eyes as she slips her knife across his throat, hard enough that it grates against bone. Tina’s nerves tremble as she releases him, and black beard falls with a hard thump to her feat. She breaths fast and hard through her nose as she steps over him, wiping her knife gingerly on her skirt. Newt’s sword drops to the grass and he’s looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe. All Tina feels is rage.

“Why on earth do you carry a sword if you don’t know how to wield one?” She shrieks hysterically, her face balled up in anger. Tina's hair flies around her face, sticking to her heated forehead. Newt takes a step towards her. He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing slowly down his neck. 

“You were,” He says disjointedly, his voice hoarse. Newt brushes a piece of hair behind her ear and Tina breathes in sharply as his fingers trail down her neck, “magnificent,” he finishes with a whisper, smiling crookedly. Tina’s lips wobble perilously, a sudden warmth of pride rushing through her. 

Then she hears a small snick. A loud whistle of an oncoming attack. Newt hears it too, his eyes widening in terror. Tina quickly pushes him out of the way, turning side on, letting the sharp bolt impale her upper arm. She cries out in pain, dropping to her knees, cradling her throbbing shoulder with trembling fingers. She knows better to pull it out, so she shuts her eyes and rocks back and forth, trying her best to keep consciousness. 

Tina vaguely hears Newt growling and the loud shriek of something unhuman, but she doesn’t have the strength to look up. So she simple sits, focusing on her breathing. In her nose and out her mouth, until a warm hand sits itself on her knee. 

“I thought you had got him,” Newt says sharply, leaning down in front of her. His face grows pale as he notices her injury, “why on earth didn’t you kill him first?” 

“You needed help,” Tina states through gritted teeth, “you were protecting your case weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Newt replies simply, his free hand patting softly at a pocket on his breast, “but you didn’t need to,”

Tina huffs out a puff of humourless laughter, wincing as her wound spasms.

“You’re my husband, and you care about the damn thing,” She bites out through gritted teeth, “of course I’m going to help you,” Tear drop from her eyes, splashing down on the exposed skin of her left thigh. Newt’s hand rests on the right, which is still covered by her dark blue skirts. His fingers tighten as she sniffs pathetically.

“Come on,” He says, his voice thick with emotion as he stands, so thick she can't seems to descriptor it, “let’s get you home,” 

“Um,” Tina points at the arrow sticking out of her arm sarcastically, instead of taking the hand he’s holding out to her. Newt smiles at her with half of his face, the expression in his eyes still lost to her. 

“I could heal it now and it would be stiff on cold days, or,” He throws his head back in the direction of his castle, “we could go home, and I’d be able to use herbs to make it perfect,”

Seeing the logic in this, Tina grumbles to her feet. The world spins as she stands, and Newt takes her swiftly round the waist. He casts a quick spell to magic his forgotten sword back inside its sheath without letting her go. 

Bunty waits quietly as they try to mount her unsuccessfully. But Tina’s hands are weak and her vision is blurry round the edges, so all their attempts prove un-fruitful.

“Sorry, this may hurt,” Newt says darkly, before two large hands wrap herself around her waist. Tina’s lungs tighten as his thumbs brush against the small of her back. Then as if she only weighed as much as a feather, he lifts her up and into the saddle. Newt then swings up behind her, and Tina lays her heavy head against his chest.

“You’re strong,” She mumbles drily, and Newt’s returning chuckle muses her hair. 

“Thank you, I suppose,” He says, reaching around her carefully to grab Bunty’s reins. 

Tina blinks around tiredly at the destruction their leaving in their wake. Four dead men lie motionless in the grass. Her dagger is still imbedded in one of their chests. Two are sporting two bright red smiles that hang around their necks. And the last man. The one with the cross bow. Tina stares at him in disbelief. He’s dead. That much is clear. His skin is deadly pale, his lips tinged with blue. A thin line of blood drips from his ear. There’s a terrified expression on his face; a look of such pure horror, it makes Tina shiver then turn away. 

“What did you do to him?” She asks Newt breathlessly, tipping up her chin to look at him. 

“Me?” Newt asks calmly and Tina nods. 

“I did nothing,” He states firmly not meeting her eye, moving Bunty into a trot with a flick of her reins. Tina’s much too weak to ask any more questions, and nestles back into Newt’s chest, too tired to keep her eyes open any longer.

He races them home, as quickly as the north wind blows. Tina slips in and out of consciousness, not quite sure if she feels soft lip press into her forehead or if it’s just her imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	4. The creature and the case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sisterly chat, and more outlaws to fight off. Will Tina finally find out what Newt is hiding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Another chapter! I don't think the next one will be as quick, but I hope everyone enjoys this one.  
> Newt and Tina bond some more, and you'll get a bit more backstory of my they had to get married in the first place.

Buzz buzz. 

Tina moans pulling her bed clothes over her head. ‘Mercy Lewis, no reasonable human is up this early Queenie, leave me alone!’

Buzz buzz. 

‘It’s bad enough I’ve had to spend three weeks trapped in this stupid bed. At least leave me to sleep when I’m actually tired,’ 

Buzz buzz.

Tina stays firmly beneath her blankets. Perhaps if she just lies still, she’ll stop ringing.

BUZZ BUZZ. 

Groaning in defeat Tina reaches blindly for her magic mirror, and tugs it under her sheets. 

“What?” She grumbles blearly eyed, as the bright, bubbly face of her sister shimmers into view. 

“Good morning, Teenie,” Queenie chirps, “did you have a good sleep?” She’s already dressed for the day. Her gold hair is shined to perfection, and falls in waves round her face. Gold hangs round her neck and in her ears, and has been used for a trim on her flamboyant pink dress. Tina rubs the sleep out of her eyes with the tip of one finger indelicately. 

“I slept fine,” She replies yawning, “how about you?”

“Oh enough about our sleep patterns,” Queenie brushes away her question with a flick of her hand, “You won’t believe what ‘your’ sister has been conspiring,” 

‘Her sister’ Lady Leta. Tina slips her face into an expressionless mask. ‘I do have a little of an idea actually,’ Tina thinks awkwardly, the contents of her sister-in-laws letter springing to the forefront of her mind. Queenie’s face is red with injustice, but somehow the high points on her cheeks only serve to make her look more beautiful. When Tina scowls, she looks like a horse- or so she’s been told. 

“First, she only let some of our muggle contingent marry half-bloods or muggle-borns,” Queenie states, holding up a bejewelled finger to highlight her point. Tina nods quickly- not trusting herself to speak and her sister moves vigorously on, “Then she used up most of the money I put aside for the weddings to protect you two,” 

"Ah" Tina breathes quietly, "I’d wondered where those soldiers had come from," Pulling down her covers to reveal a slip of sunlight, she can just see the flags flying from her open window. 

Tina hadn’t been able to notice anything for the first week. The arrow wound had become infected, and she’d melted in and out of consciousness, sick with fever. All she remembers is a cold cloth on her forehead, and a firm hand in hers, whenever she had awoken.  
The second week she was tired, droopy, only able to sit out of her chair for a few hours at a time. Tina had watched the knights clop in from her window their newly polished armour blinking in the sun.  
This third week, thankfully, she was undoubtedly better. And yet Newt still insisted she was to stay bedridden, until her wound had properly scabbed over.  
Tina fully believed she was about to go insane. 

‘Although Newt has been…fantastic… otherwise,’ Tina thinks with a small smile. Everyday her husband would knock on her door shyly, for at least breakfast, lunch and dinner. They would talk, joke, generally get to know each other. And she found that she liked him. ‘Very much so,’ A little voice in the back of her mind teases, and Tina blushes.  
Her husband was kind, passionate, knowledgeable; and underneath his original quiet nature and awkwardness laid a person much more confident and unflappable than herself. Tina had only ever seen Newt grow anxious once, when her wound split, flooding her bandage with blood. He had fluttered around her bedside for a good hour, despite her constant insistence that she was fine. 

Every day they would read together. Newt had come up one morning with a mountain of books, he’d hoped to be to her taste. They’d either read side by side in a comfortable silence or they’d read out loud to each other- their favourite passages from the plays of antiquate or an enjoyable chapter from a novel from the continent. Newt seemed to like those- Tina’s French was more perfect than most thanks to her time there. He’d lay his head back on the windowsill as she talked, the vowels tumbling easily from her lips.  
The servants would come in to light the fires and Tina would falter, thinking it was getting too late. But Newt would almost beg her. ‘Please’ he’d say, looking up at her through his lashes from his spot by her bedside, ‘at least finish the chapter,’ Tina would nod, words failing her, before snuggling up under more firmly under the blankets again, as rain began to pelt at the windowpanes. She would continue eventually and Newt would smile in that crooked way he always did, his eyes closed shut in contentment. 

On nights like those Tina sometimes thought he would stay. He’d linger. Build up the fire if he thought it was failing. Re-tie the bandage around her arm- his fingers, though rough and littered with scars, were as gentle as anything. But Newt never did- stay that is. He would always say goodnight quietly before slipping out the side door and into his own room, leaving Tina quite alone. Which had started to bother her, for some reason. 

“Tina, TINA,” Queenie’s voice breaks through her musings. She cocks a perfect blonde eyebrow, “have you even been listening to me?”

“Yes, yes,” Tina says hastily, “Leta’s not allowing our muggles to marry her purebloods,” 

“And…” Her sister spits dangerously. 

“And what?” Tina asks back, bewildered.

“And she’s only allowing one child per match!” Queenie shouts out so loudly that Tina can hear Jacob slushing her gently, “one child, till there’s proof they have magical ability!”

“Ahh,” Tina trails off uncertainly. The Scamander’s are certainly playing the game. No wonder Queenie is furious. 

Queenie's side of the resistance wanted muggles and wizards to live in harmony. Although horrified my Grindlewald's regime, the Kowalski's wanted the awareness the white haired wizard had given the country. Magic and muggle roamed freely in their court. The Scamander resistance however, wanted things to go back exactly as they were. For them to go back underground again, safely shut away from muggle eye. There were no muggles at all in their court, at least to Tina's knowledge.  
Their mutual goal- overthrowing Grindlewald- had them working together, and Newt and Tina's recent marriage has bound them for life. But no-one was blind to the fact that things were hardly happy families. The civil war had to have a victor. But who would win after that? Queenie and Jacob? Or Leta and Theseus? 

Tina bases herself as without a side, merely against Grindlewald, and to her pleasure Newt had declared himself the same. However their family names work against them on the matter. Tina’s wedding ring shines brightly in the morning sunlight. ‘I’m a Scamander too, now’ She thinks dully, ‘what side does that make me fighting for?’ Tina squeezes her eyes tight, the space behind her eyes throbbing with tension ‘why do I even have to be on a side at all?’ 

“See!” Queenie says triumphantly, smirking slightly at Tina’s uncomfortable expression, “She’s taking her plans too far, way too far, it’s not fair!” She’s clearly exclaiming to both her sister and her husband. She can see Jacob’s large hand hook round Queenie's shoulders in comfort. 

Tina pinches the bridge of her nose. She’s got a headache coming on. She always does these days after talking to her sister. Why can’t things go back to the way things were- when they talked about the little things and joked about the big. Tina wants to hear about her nieces and nephews- not court politics. But Queenie is her sister, and she’s worried; she has to console her.

“Queenie, it’ll be fine,” Tina tells her sister logically, “after all, how many children do you have?”

“Seven,” Queenie says, almost petulantly, “which is exactly my point, it’s not fair-“

“Yes exactly,” Tina halts her sister before she erupts again, “And how many of your kids have magical ability?” 

Queenie’s puffed out cheeks, deflate slightly. 

“Five,” She says quietly, “And we’re pretty sure Ted is a squib,” 

“Exactly,” Tina says briskly, “If every pair you’ve managed to partner up is as half as lucky as you, I’m sure they'll be plenty of magical children running about soon,” 

“You think so?” Queenie asks softly, her big blue eyes as round as saucers. For a moment she’s her little sister again- who jumped at large shadows and loved chasing butterflies. Not Queenie Kowaski, leader of the resistance. 

“Of course,” Tina says, trying to sound as carefree as Newt does, “It’ll be fine, I am sure,” Her sister beams at her widely and she can’t help but return her happiness. Queenie is still her sister and Tina loves her to bits. 

“How’s Newton?” Queenie asks, her smile turning cheeky. Tina blushes, turning her eyes away from her sisters teasing gaze. Queenie giggles as she stutters, “well then, I take it? Has he come to see you today?”

“No, not yet,” Tina’s eyes linger to the door that connects their room. ‘In fact’, she realises with a jolt, ‘he’s late,’ Her ears strain, but she can hear no sign of the soft snuffling sounds of his slumber or the brisk steps of his manservant, Dougal. Tina’s chest begins to patter with anxiety. Has something happened to Newt? Is he ill? Not even the magical community has found the correct potion for the plague yet, and could be as deadly to a wizard as any spell.  
Or perhaps, and this one hurt more still. Maybe he’s finally become sick of her. Tina bites her lip, regret coursing through her. She did go on an awful lot about counter curses yesterday. But Newt seemed interested…he asked her questions, voiced his own opinion. And before he went to bed he kissed her gently on the hand, a simple brush that left her breathless. No it can’t be that. But then where on earth is he? 

The door opens, and her handmaid’s face only causes to heighten Tina’s anxieties. Mary’s homely face is flustered and her movements hurried. She places her breakfast tray down with a bang, muttering to herself.

“I’ll talk to you later, Queenie,” Tina whispers, and her sister nods silently. The mirror’s surface once again shimmers becoming a reflective surface. She places it back on its home of her beside table. 

“Mary,” She greets her handmaid tentatively. Newt speaks a mile a minute of the virtues of manservant, Dougal. Tina can’t say her she’s successfully clicked with her own yet. Mary is pleasant enough. But she’s too prone to silences for Tina’s shy nature and too old fashioned for her lady’s more outlandish pleasure activities and outfits. 

“My Lady,” Mary greets her testily, brushing the dust out of the bedroom’s curtains with an uncharacteristic vigour. Tina watches her bustle almost angrily round the room for a few minutes before her curiosity gets the better of her. 

“Something happen this morning Mary?” Tina asks lightly, crossing her fingers under the bedsheets, “In the kitchens perhaps?” 

“Hardly,” The maid huffs, “Some more outlaws have been spotted in the highlands,” Tina sits up immediately, every nerve in her body on high alert. Mary spots her change of posture and rushes to reassure her.

“Don’t worry my lady, some soldiers have been sent out to deal with the matter,” Mary smiles weakly, though her watery eyes are still wary, “Though Merlin knows what my Lord is thinking of, going out with them,”

“What?” Tina gapes, horror struck. 

She had teased Newt endlessly about his subpar sword work, half in jest and half hoping it would prompt him into working at it more. Tina knew it was stupid; her husband had clearly done something to that cross-bow man. Newt could clearly take care of himself. But the memory of him being helplessly backed into his horse still tortured her. What if it happened again and she was not there to protect him? 

“I must go help him,” Tina states decisively, swinging quickly out of bed. She pushes past her floundering maid to stuff a piece of toast in her mouth. 

“But my lady,” Mary blusters, her face bright red, “You can’t go running off after him! It’s not proper! And my lord has made it clear that you should stay in bed,” 

“'My lord' is my husband,” Tina says dismissively, pressing a firm hand to Newt’s bedroom door, and pushing hard, “And I will go to him if I want,” His room is as empty as it is a mess. Tina smiles dotingly round at the towers of books and papers that litter Newt's room. Old quills crack under her feet as she makes her way over to his closet and throws it open. Newt’s sword lies uselessly on the floor, next to a pair of polished riding boots. Heart in her mouth, Tina bends down and picks it up. It’s well made, and well balanced if a bit dusty from lack of use. She tests its weight, and to her great surprise she finds it perfect for her. She hopes his pants are the same. 

“My lady!” Mary states her tone rich in condemnation, “I can’t watch you do this!” 

Tina turns round, a shrugs at her handmaiden’s frown. 

“Then close the door,” She tells her firmly. 

Tina makes her way nimbly down the stairs. Newt’s pants fit her pretty well, though they are a bit tight round her hips. With her hair thrown in a simple plait and her old worn training tunic…she looks nothing more than a servant. Work men and washer girls pass her without a second glance; or if they do it’s for the sharp sword at her hip. Tina makes it easily out of the castle, over the courtyards and into the stables. There’s more horses than there were when Newt and her went on their ride. No doubt the many new mounts are from the various knights and their squires. But Charlotte is in her usual stall and she gives her mistress a happy whinny in greeting. 

“Shh,” Tina says, rubbing her nose gently. She tugs a carrot she stole from the kitchens out of her pocket and offers it to her mare. Charlotte swallows her treat eagerly, and bends down sniffing Tina’s hips for more. 

“After Sweetling,” Tina says, swinging a long leg over the stalls gate, “but first we’re going on an adventure,” 

“How’d you get in here?” A familiar voice calls out coldly. Before Tina has time to shout, or even turn around. She’s knocked to the ground. 

But not by a spell or even by a sword. It’s something green, something scaly, something with sharp fangs and beady eyes. Something alive. 

“I wouldn’t bother fighting,” The voice speaks again, almost casually, “she’s going to eat your brains if you struggle, or if you don’t,” 

Long wings unfurl from the side of the ‘thing's’ slim body, obscuring Tina’s vision. Something hot drips onto her cheek; it’s spit she supposes. It burns like acid, and Tina screams out in pain. 

“Newt!” She cries out, half in terror, half in anger, “get this bloody thing off me!” 

“Tina?” Newt cries out in shock. He gives an inhuman whistle and the creature above her reluctantly moves away. It’s claws snick into her shirt, before he swoops upwards to perch, like a bizarre crow on her husband’s shoulders. Tina lays in the hay for a moment, catching her breath. Newt is steadfastly refusing to meet her blazing gaze.

“What,” Tina scrambles to her feet, cradling her injured cheek with one palm, “the hell is that?”

“Bertha,” Newt answers quietly to his toes. Tina nods sarcastically. Hot blood is leaking between her fingers. 

“And Bertha is?” She asks somewhat hysterically. Bertha flashes her a wicked smile. 

“A swooping evil,” Newt mutters guiltily, “I thought you were in bed,” His eyes flicker up to hers for a moment, accusingly. Tina leans up against the gate, and shoots him a withering glare. 

“I thought we were taking breakfast together,” Tina argues back, leaning over the wooden beams to get a better look at his…Bertha. 

It’s horrifyingly beautiful- like something from another world. Her Mama used to tell her stories about elves, dwarves and centaurs. Tina had loved them, but never for a moment had she believed them to be real. ‘But they might be,” She thinks her eyes widening in wonder, ‘If ethereal creatures like this exist in the world,”. Tina vaults over the gate to get a better look. 

“Are those my pants,” Newt asks, his case is bumping nervously against his thighs, “and my sword?” Tina ignores his questions, biting her lip as she studies Bertha curiously. 

“It’s true then, what they say about you?” Tin asks softly, her fingers twisting together in knots, “That you have creatures? That you can control them?”

“I don’t control them,” Newt bites out, his voice course and brash. His eyes flicker with anger as he narrows them at the wall behind her shoulder, “They trust me and I trust them,”  
Tina nods slowly, swallowing tightly at his sudden rage. He can’t be too angry; his fingers are gently caressing Bertha’s wings. The beast nips at his ear cheekily when he pauses, and she’s reminded vividly of Charlotte searching for treats. 

“Like horses?” Tina asks apologetically, and Newt deflates as suddenly as he exploded. He smiles slightly, nodding his head begrudgingly. 

“Yes, I suppose,” He admits, his eyes finally raising to hers. They twinkle with amusement, “Though some of them are quite a bit bigger than a horse,” Tina huffs out a breath of incredulous laughter. 

Newt reaches up and presses a soft thumb to her cheek, wincing as it comes away with blood. She clenches her jaw in pain as he presses his wand tip into her wound. A soothing substance flows over her skin, and her cheek finally stops stinging. Tina breathes a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that,” Newt murmurs gently, truth in all his looks, “I thought one of the outlaws had somehow gotten through,” 

Tina looks over at Bertha, who bobs her head in an almost guilty manner. Carefully, oh so carefully she lifts up her hand, like one would before a dog they were about to pat. Bertha sniffs her carefully, her skeletal nostrils twitching. Cautiously her snake like tongue jolts out and wraps around Tina’s ring finger. 

“Tina,” Newt hisses cautiously, as Bertha’s acid tongue gives her a fervent taste. 

“It’s alright,” Tina gasps. Painful tears sting at her eyes, but she refuses to withdraw her hand until the creature wants her to. Bertha is examining the ring that’s set around her finger curiously. She chitters excitedly to Newt, who nods slowly. Bertha considers Tina with her small beady eyes. 

“Hello sweetling,” Tina says, addressing the creature, trying her best to push some confidence into her voice. Her fingers give her a way a bit, as they tremble. But they still manage to caress Bertha’s head, just behind where her ears would be if the creature had any. The skin is rougher than she imagined, and Tina runs a nail down it again, enraptured. Bertha’s eyes flutter shut in ecstasy. Tina giggles as the creature nudges her hand again, begging her to continue. 

“She’s wonderful,” Tina murmurs to no one in particular. 

“Yes,” Newt breaths softly. Tina looks up to find his gaze directed at her; his mouth hanging open slightly. He moves closer, close enough that Tina can see the gold in his green eyes. Close enough that she can feel the loss of his breath when her tongue darts out to wet her lips. 

“Tina,” Newt asks softly, “would you like to see everyone?” Everyone? All his creatures? 

“Of course, if you want me to,” Tina breathes happily. He returns her smile, his shoulders clearly relaxing in relief. 

She can hear his hand loosening round the strap of his case. She watches bemusedly as Newt sets it on the ground and opens it with a sharp snap. Tina peers down into it. She can vaguely tell it is a workspace. However, it just can’t be that. She knows it can’t be- for Bertha swoops down and out of sight to catcalls of miscellaneous greetings. Tina’s eyes widen. Newt holds out a hand and she takes it numbly. 

“I want you too,” He grins wider and she beams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	5. Thunderbirds and Salamanders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A creature talk by the fireside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Sorry it's been so long, I've been without proper internet for a while. I'll try to post two chapters tonight to make up for it. Anyhow, this chapter is short and sweet and I hope everyone enjoys it!

“And this?” Tina asks wondrously, holding up another scroll. Newt turns from where he was tending to the fire. 

They had spent hours in his case. It was better than he’d dreamed. Tina approached every single creature, with first tentative, but then eager curiosity and kindness. She’d had so many questions that Newt had talked himself hoarse. And although he had reluctantly forgone one particular creature, he avidly described the others and all the various characteristics and habits he knows. 

Eventually they’d gotten hungry, and Tina had sat on his arms all through dinner as he encountered his teenage explorations and discoveries on the continent. Newt has never had someone listen to him so completely before, not since his mother was alive. Most of the court, when they listened that is, took his passionate speeches for mere flights of fancy and his creatures curiosities. Tina is taking his furry and feathery friends as seriously as she takes everything and to his immense delight finds them, and seemingly everything he says interesting.

Newt stands, and walks to his bed where Tina is perched riffling through his old scrolls and parchments. Her hair has long since fallen from it’s braid, and falls in waves down her back. Her old sparing shirt, proved a viable choice for romping around in his case is covered in stains and scratches. As are his pants which still grace her body. Newt’s never seen a grown woman in pants before, all the women he knows would rather be caught dead than dress in men’s clothes. It’s a shame. Tina’s long legs are hypnotising where they swing playfully off the side of his bed. 

Newt considers before joining her, taking his near empty cup of wine from the table and swigging. Why are breasts so beloved by the male species? Newt can see the appeal, no word of lie. But Tina’s thighs wrapped in his own clothes? Surely there could not be a more delicious sight. 

Tina takes a generous sip from her own mug; his parchment and picture still held in her fingertips. Newt plonks himself down next to her, examining his old art work. 

“Ah that, that,” He points at the winged beast busy making storms out of clear skies, “is a thunderbird,” 

“A thunderbird,” Tina whispers happily, her cheeks pink as she draws her fingers over it, “I like it the best,” 

Newt laughs, loudly, the alcohol making him lose and free. He throws his arm around her, and she nudges him in the ribs. 

“What’s so funny?” Tina asks petulantly, holding the picture to her chest with a childish reverence. 

“How can you like it the best?” Newt asks her, shaking his head lovingly, “You have never seen one, I haven’t even seen one!”

“You haven’t?” Tina looks up at him in confusion, “then how do you have this picture?” A reasonable question. Newt shrugs carelessly as an answer. His wife shoves him- hard. He falls back onto his blankets chuckling, as Tina glowers over him. She’s as vicious as a Valkyrie, his lovely Porpentina. As ferocious as a dragon. If only Newt could show her… but no. At least, not yet. 

“I have been told of such a creature, from a knowledgeable man from Egypt,” Newt explains instead. He picks the drawing from her hands and studies it intensely, “It is said to come from the far west,” 

“Far west?” Tina asks laying back with him, “As in China? Russia?” 

“No, no,” Newt says slowly, his voice thick with longing, “Another country, in-between us and the east, one that has never been found,” 

Tina rolls, her head rested up on her elbow. Her eyes are brimming with excitement. Newt can see it shinning in her- her yearning for adventure. It's shine reflexes his own. 

“You don’t mean,” Her lips stutter in their eagerness, “another land?” 

“Why not?” Newt exclaims fervently, reaching within his papers to find his one of maps. He rolls it open. It shows England, Africa, and the continent to their full advantage. However, there’s grand space, under India, between them and China. Who’s to say what lies there?

“That’s my dream you see,” Newt tells Tina, sitting up so fast the papers flutter around them, taking her hand in his. Her hand is comfortingly warm in his sweaty one, “To travel to lands unknown, see the world, the whole world, discover its secrets,” He looks at her nervously, through his fringe. Tina nods seriously, almost proudly and squeezes his hand tightly. Newt feels her strength flow through him. 

“You will,” His wife states firmly, “I know you will,” Newt grins gratefully, holding her hand close to his heart. 

He’s caught with the wild desire to kiss her. He could, he’s close enough. Tina turns away before he has a chance however, and Newt’s too shy to catch her cheek. He can see she wishes to say something, but she too demurs, blushes and turns away. Newt looks into the fire, giving her time in case she still wishes to speak. 

“Look! Tina!” Newt gasps. He practically rolls off the bed, flopping with a hard thud on the floor. He can feel Tina’s eyes on her, as he crawls towards the carpeted space in front of his fireplace. 

“What?” She stage whispers, from her place on his bed. 

Newt holds out his palms. A warm claw tentatively skims the surface of his skin. It’s eyes glimmer in the firelight, looking strangely familiar. 

“Come here,” Newt murmurs softly, unable to tear himself away from the creatures eyes. Tina lands next to him ungraciously with a large oof. Newt holds out his hands, where the aalamander stares up at her inquisitively. It’s blue tongue of flame slips out, tasting her scent on the air. Tina’s eyes are round with wonder. Her fingers nervously lean out and she pat the creature tenderly on its silver scales. The Salamander nudges into her and Tina beams, almost tearfully. Newt smiles back, his heart strangely light. 

“What is it?” Tina asks breathlessly, trying to look inquisitively into the fireplace, as if a whole barricade of salamanders are about to march out of the flames. But her eyes are seemingly stuck on the creature, who’s clawing at the air, clearly trying to cross over to her hands. 

“She, I’m pretty sure,” Newt informs Tina, “see how her scales curve round like that?” 

“Her then,” Tina rolls her eyes dotingly, “what is she?” She looks up, firelight dancing in her pupils. The creature is snuggling into her fingertips; she too blinks at him. Newt swallows harshly. Their gaze is identical, like fire in dark water. Merlin, he wants to drown in Tina’s eyes. 

Tina nudge her knee into his own. 

“Newt!” She whispers, chuckling. Newt edges closer, and their hips brush together. He sways slightly; the drink must have hit him more than he thought. Newt watches, more than a little distracted, as Tina presses her lips together. 

“What?” He mumbles dazedly. It should be against the law to have skin that pearly. Perhaps that’s why his wife was exiled. Not for anything untoward, but her gorgeous complexion. 

“The creature!” Tina groans, laying her head on his shoulder. She rolls her head up, watching him through her eyelashes, “what kind of creature is it?” 

“A salamander,” Newt croaks, his lips dry, “a lizard born of magical fire,” 

“A salamander,” Tina repeats amazed, raising up her cupped hands to stare more directly at the now dozing creature, “Why don’t you have any in your case?” 

“Because they die after their fires are extinguished,” Newt replies matter-o-factly and slightly dreamily. Tina’s awestruck expression turns horror-struck. She takes her head off his shoulder. Newt tries to move closer again, sick from the loss of her touch. Tina however sits away, looking heartily distressed. 

“What?” Tina asks, her voice high and nervy, “die?” She looks down at the creature in her palms with such pain that it hurts him. Newt lays a hand on her arm. 

“It doesn’t hurt them Tina,” He tells her gently, as if calming a distressed beast, “death for them is as simple as sleeping,”

“But it’s not sleeping!” Tina cries out. One big tear rolls down her cheek, before she caresses the creature with her lips, “it’s death,” 

She holds the salamander close to her chest. A sweet song slips through her lips. A lullaby of sorts, in a language Newt has never heard before, despite his many travels. He’s only just introduced her to his creatures, and Tina’s already treating them like children she needs to protect. She rocks the salamander gently, her chin dropped to its tiny face. Newt’s pulls her towards him, stretching his arm out and over her shoulder. Tina presses tiredly up against him

“Tina, love,” The adoration falls out of his loosened lips accidentally. Her brilliant dark eyes flick up. Newt blushes, but doesn’t lose her gaze. Nor does he take back his words. He won’t be able to say it soberly, not matter how much he wants to. He’ll let him ring out now, and pray she doesn’t curse him for it. To his joy, instead of frowning, leaving or god forbid, laughing, Tina smiles. Weakly, but truly. Newt smiles back. His wife turns her head back to the creature in her arms. 

“Let the fire burn as long as it can,” She murmurs leaning into him again, “Please Newt, promise me,” Newt can feel her back, as straight as a rod against his shoulder. He tucks a piece of her hair gently behind her ear. 

“I promise,” Newt whispers. He remembers watching his first salamander die. How he stayed with him all through the night, watching him through sore, unblinking eyes till the wood burned away to ash. He can imagine Tina will do the same.

Newt aches with the sudden need to ask her to share is bed. So they can stay vigil, watch over her together. It would be easier with two, and Newt would be able to comfort her in what will surely be a painful moment. Tina will fall asleep in his arms and wake in them too. Newt pulls her closer, his head against her own. She rests there, rubbing her cheek against his collar. She stays for so long that Newt believes she has fallen asleep. 

But it’s not to be. Tina yawns like a kitten, then stretches. Newt stays on the floor watching helpless as she stands. He wants to beg her to stay, but he can’t find the words. Plus, her arse looks amazing in his pants. Newt watches her through hooded eyes, as she wanders through his room, her long hair swaying with her hips. She coos at the creature in her arms, bouncing it as one would a newborn baby. 

“Please stay,” Newt mouths silently. But Tina’s back is turned and she doesn’t see. 

“Goodnight Newt,” Tina whispers turning round, her free hand on her bedroom door, “See you tomorrow,”

“Have a good sleep Tina,” Newt wishes wryly, knowing she won’t get a wink. She smiles tiredly back, before slipping through and leaving him alone. The door shuts with a hesitant click. Newt groans, throwing his head back on the carpet. The fire is warm, but Tina was warmer. 

He keeps it alight for as long as he can. But Newt eventually falls sleep, curled up in a ball on his bedroom’s floor. When he awakes the fire has turned to ashes and Tina joins him late in his case the next morning; her eyes red and heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think?


	6. Dreams and nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt has an interesting dream and Tina reveals her secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Here is the next chapter, quicker as promised! Hope everyone enjoys. Next has quite a steamy dream, and Tina reveals some things about her past.

Newt wakes to the sound of heavy breathing. Female heavy breathing. Coming from the door connecting to his wife’s rooms. Tina. Newt blinks blearily, slowly awakening. It is pitch black in his bedroom, and all his candles have been snubbed out. It’s clearly the middle of the night. Yet Tina’s breathing gets louder, intermittent with tiny whines. She makes no attempts to hush her noises. 

‘She must think I’m asleep,” Newt thinks, struggling to get comfortable, trying to ignore the tightening in his groin. For merlin does it sound as though his wife is pleasuring herself from just behind one astonishing thin wall. 

‘Or,’ A deep dark voice whispers in the back of his mind, ‘Perhaps she thinks you’re awake,’ Tina lets out a large, uninhibited moan. Newt groans into his pillowcase. God he wants her- More than anything. 

His feet hit the freezing floorboards carefully, as Newt swings out of bed. She may be having a nightmare; He’s her husband, he should be the one to comfort her. Newt’s guided to the door by the soft glow of his fireplace and Tina’s stuttering breaths. Or perhaps her wound has re-opened, perhaps she’s in pain. She’ll need him. Newt’s fingers curl nimbly round the door handle. In any case, it’s important that he checks. 

The door swings open and Newt slips easily through. 

Tina’s room is still lit by warm candle light. His shadow lengths up the walls as he walks in, his mouth bone dry. The blankets on her bed have been thrown carelessly aside. Tina’s hair is fanned out on her pillows, her cheeks are a rosy pink. Her lips are red where she’s been biting at them. She’s wearing his old night shirt. Tina had borrowed it from Newt one afternoon, their own clothes putrid after their rump with his dung beetles. It has slipped indecently up her soft thighs. Newt had only gotten a brief touch on their wedding night. But god does he want to touch again. To taste. Tina’s hand is hidden under the shirt’s fabric. But Newt can tell; the way she breaths, the way her neck extends upwards into her pillows. 

Yes, Newt knows exactly what she is doing. And she’s so gorgeous. 

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina moans her familiar adage, her eyes squeezed shut, ”good god, Newt,”

“Tina,” Newt croaks. She jumps, eyes widening, her face heating shamefully. 

“Newt,” Tina gasps in a completely different tone. She almost sounds terrified. She really needn’t be. Newt’s never been harder in his life, “I thought you were asleep,” Tina pulls his shirt down over her hastily, wiping her fingers on her sheets. Newt marches over to her bedside and grabs her wrist. Tina stares up at him doe eyed, as he examines her fingers. They’re still wet. 

“Merlin darling,” Newt moans hopelessly, “Is this all for me?“ Tina’s bottom lip quivers. Then she nods mutely. Newt’s heart is pounding out of his chest. Tina’s pulse is racing just as hard. He can feel it fluttering against his finger tips and he places her fingers in his mouth. She tastes divine.

“Newt,” Tina gasps, her pupils blown wide, “please,”

“Yes,” Newt growls, releasing her only to pull his own night shirt over his head. Then he practically pounces on her, greeting his wife with a searing kiss. Tina’s nails rake through his hair, as his hand reach down to hike up her shirt around her hips.

“You’re so beautiful Tina,” Newt mumbles into her neck as he a-lines himself, “I have the most beautiful wife, beautiful inside and out,” 

Tina reaches down and grasps his hand. She brings it up to her lips, pressing a hard kiss to the ring that knights his finger. 

“My husband,” She whispers tenderly. Tina looks up to him. Those beautiful eyes, like fire and water, gaze at him with a look of utter love. Newt keens, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Then he enters her. 

“Newt!” 

His blinds swing open and sunlight pours into his room. Newt sits up gasping. His erection sits hard and unashamed against the bed-sheets. Dougal’s eyes are slightly too everted as he busies round the bedroom. 

“Lots of post this morning sir,” His manservant says genteelly, as Newt tries to discreetly hide his affliction with a pillow, “and there was a small scuffle last night with the soldiers, so you should properly see them before beginning your daily activities with Lady Scamander,” 

Tina gasping out his name in ecstasy, Tina’s heels pressing deep into his back. Tina shuddering around him as she comes. Newt runs a tired hand over his face. That was not helping matters at all. 

“Where is Tina?” He asks softly, trying his best to hide the strain in his voice.

“Lady Scamander is already at breakfast,” Dougal says with a knowing smile. He lays out Newt’s clothes with a graceful flourish, “you woke up a bit late this morning sir,” 

“Yes, quite,” Newt mumbles. ‘Not bloody late enough,’ He thinks, falling back on his mattress with a flop. Tina. Merlin, he just can’t get her out of his head. Newt never thought he’d feel about another person like this again. But god if she isn’t wriggling into his heart. He winces. And his groin. Newt groans, rubbing the base of his palms over his eyes disgruntledly. 

“I’d like a bath, please Dougal,” He calls out. 

“A cold one, sir?” Dougal asks, his milky blue eyes twinkling. 

\-------

“The post,” Newt places the letters on his wife’s empty plate, before stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth. He collapses into an empty chair beside her, dragging a plate of eggs before him. 

“You’re late,” Tina observes not unkindly, before ripping the first note open, “did you have a bad sleep? Do you want me to do the feedings so you can nap?” 

Newt almost spills his tea over his fingertips. He sets down his trembling cup on the saucer. Tina has joined him every day for the past three weeks, for morning feedings, night feedings- everything. She’s particularly partial to the old, the mothers and their babes. Newt has no doubt she found feed them by herself now, so practiced she is. Tina’s clothes resemble this habit. Ever since the first time she saw his case, she’s been seen more in shirts than skirts. Her own pants have been made, though every now and again Newt catches her in his attire. Tina was wearing his night shirt last night in his dream. He had mouthed dark bruises to her neck, and she’d cried out in throws of passion. 

Real Tina’s neck is bare and creamy, and her nose is stuck in a letter. 

“I slept fine, don't worry,” Newt mumbles, taking a sip of tea.

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina gasps loudly, and Newt chokes, hot liquid burning his tongue. 

“What?” He asks quickly, as Tina skims the note in her hands, her eyes blown wide. 

“Leta’s pregnant,” Tina smiles widely, passing him the letter. Newt’s sister and brother’s delighted words spring up from the page. He laughs loudly, sharing their joy. They’ve been married for eleven years, but only have two eight-year old daughters. Both swear their twins are enough, but Newt knows it pains them; their lack of a brood. 

“That’s brilliant news,” Newt grins happily, bringing his wife into a hug. Tina lays his head on his chin, hugging him tightly before they break away, “we must write back our congratulations immediately,” 

“Yes, of course,” Tina presses the letter out next to her on the tabletop, “I’ll just open these,” 

Newt nods, still smiling, and returns to their breakfast. Perhaps he’ll be actually allowed to hold his niece or nephew after their birth this time. He was exiled at the time of Isabella’s and Katherine’s and denied access to court, despite his desperate pestering. He does adore children. Perhaps one day. A little one. With dark hair, pale skin, green eyes…Newt shake his head, stuffing his mouth with eggs. There is plenty of time for those dreams. A whole lifetime. 

“Oh,” Tina moans. Newt looks to her. He quickly places his fork down. 

Tina’s fingers are white where they grip a letter. The paper bends where her grip digs into it roughly. Newt glances up at her, concerned. Her face, like her hands, are devoid of all colour; pasty, unhealthy with almost a greenish tinge. Tina’s eyes are filled with tears and every time she blinks, droplets spill over and on to her cheeks. 

Heart in his mouth, Newt silently passes over his handkerchief. Tina takes it, trembling, placing the letter on the table as gently as if it were a howler about to explode. It’s still unopened. But Newt can see from here it’s written in red ink, and from here it looks like blood. 

“Do you want me to get rid of it?” Newt asks her softly as Tina dabs at her eyes, “Or leave you, perhaps, if you want to be alone?” He doesn’t want to leave her. He wants to pull her into his arms, stroke her hair and promise that everything will be alright. That he will make everything alright. Tina goes to hand his handkerchief back to him, her nose as red as a raspberry. Newt curls his hand over her own, pressing the damp rag into her palm. He keeps his hand there and Tina sniffs gingerly, nodding to him thankfully. 

“No, no,” Tina pronounces, with a fake smile plastered on her face, “I should read it,” Yet she makes no move to open he thing. It sits there, between them. A weight around it as heavy as a cannon ball. 

“Do you want me too?” Newt asks her tentatively after a time. Tina gives him a small grimace as agreement, shuffling closer towards him. For a moment Newt think she’s going to rest her head on his shoulder. He holds his breath waiting, keeping his limbs as still as a statue, in case she decides to perch there. But Tina doesn’t, instead she wavers anxiously in her seat as Newt opens he letter, dragging it free with his pointer finger. 

He reads the note out loud, in a clear voice. It’s short, but polite and congratulatory. Just someone called Achilles’ Tolliver wishing Tina good luck with her new marriage. It was an empty letter in truth, nothing more than perfunctory. They’d gotten plenty of letter of congratulations; this one seemed no different. And yet Tina’s shoulders slowly caved in on themselves as Newt read. He’d never seen her look so small and timid before- a mouse instead of a lion. She’d faced men with knifes, his more dangerous creatures with talons and fangs with ease. But simple words on paper? This is what causes Tina Scamander to crumble? 

Newt finishes the letter with a confused air. Tina drops her head, letting her hair fall forward looking incredibly unhappy. A tear runs down her nose and it lands with a tiny splash on the tablecloth. Newt turns his chair round with a creak to face her and their knees bump together. 

“Tina, please tell me what’s wrong,” Newt asks desperately. He pushes a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Tina’s mouth falls open, as she takes a sharp intake of breath, “I don’t like to see you like this,” Newt finishes brokenly, taking in with pain, her tear stained cheeks. 

His wife worries at her lip, clearly considering. Her dark eyes are lank with indecision, even when she begins to talk again. 

“It’s not,” Tina winces, looking away to his unfinished breakfast, “It’s a long tale Newt, and not a very nice one,” Newt squeezes her fingers and sits forward in his chair, giving her his full attention. 

“I have all the time in the world,” He promises truthfully. Tina smiles. But it’s not at him, it’s a something, someone else. Someone he cannot see. 

“My family was once on Grindlewald’s side you know,” Tina begins, almost casually. Newt jolts with shock, but holds his tongue. They’re not now, that’s all that matters. Tina doesn’t even seem to notice; her eyes glazed over. She’s clearly lost to her memories. 

“My Mama was a witch, but my father was a muggle,” She shrugs absentmindedly, “So we weren’t safe on either side, muggle or magic. Grindlewald promised us safety. A life where there would be no more hiding, and we’d be able to live freely without fears of prosecution or death by pitchfork,” 

“But then we found out,” Tina state with so fierce a snarl, that Newt shudders, “Grindlewald didn’t want muggles and magic united. He wanted muggles to be his slaves and himself to be the king of the ashes,” Her hands have gone clammy in Newt’s own. 

“Father and Mama turned sides, publicly, and you don’t do that without expecting treacherous consequences,” Tina turns back to face him. Her eyes are red and her voice is strained. 

“Grindlewald killed my father for the ‘greater good’, and Mama had to sell everything we had to get us safely away to France,” A single tear rolls down her cheek and she lets it fall, “Mama died not soon after that. Then it was just the two of us- Me and Queenie,” 

“Luckily those in France and even Spain knew our parents well. The resistance is strong there, as you know, and we were taken in with open arms,” Tina smiles sweetly, shaking her head fondly, “Queenie…is Queenie. She’s brilliant at getting what she wants and she wants revenge. Especially after she married a muggle herself. Soon we rose in rank. She battled in court, and I on the field; always against Grindlewald’s followers and we always won. We were unstoppable,” 

“Until,” Tina blanches, shame faced, “I screwed up, and I assure you, I did so spectacularly,” Her smile has turned wry. 

She’s telling me the story of why she was exiled, Newt realises swallowing harshly. The real story. A cold shiver runs down his spine. But he doesn’t lean back or turn away. Tina wants to tell him. And he’s going to listen. 

“We had a servant who traveled with us, all the way from England,” Tina speaks, while threading her mother’s necklaces chain through her fingers, “He was like a brother to me, especially after Queenie married Jacob, we did everything together,” 

“What was his name?” Newt asks quietly. The image of a small boy trailing along after Tina’ skirts swings into his mind. It makes him smile. 

“Credence,” Tina replies softly, “His name is Credence,” Her necklace falls limply through her fingers. 

“Credence was as loyal as a hound, to us and our cause,” Tina says reverently, “two years ago he traveled back to England to gather more stragglers that would fight for us, but he never came back. We waited, and waited, I thought he was dead,” 

“Until,” Tina winces, clenching her jaw, “We got word about a man of similar appearance on Grindlewald’s side, close to his side, his right hand man,” 

This particular snippet causes Newt to look to his toes, keeping his face particularly blank. Was this man captured or merely a deserter? Tina’s hand tightens around his, he ball of handkerchief pressing tight against his skin. 

“He was taken,” She hisses wretchedly, “I know he was,” grief has sunk into her voice. Newt looks up. Her eyes are wide and honest and they plead with him desperately. He runs a thumb along the back of his hand.

“I believe you,” He murmurs. ‘At least I want to,’ Newt thinks to himself quietly. The smile Tina gives him at his admission is worth his wavering mind. 

“Thank you Newt,” Tina whispers, beaming happily. She bends down, pressing a warm kiss to the back of his hand. Her lips burn into his skin, and Newt shudders at the feeling. His tongue urges him to say something, but nothing but a muddled mess comes to his mind and Tina continues before he has a chance. 

“I begged Queenie to let me go find him, rescue him,” Tina says, quickly turning sombre, “But she refused, denied me in front of our entire court,” 

“Why?” Newt asks, genuinely confused. If this Credence fellow was so important to the Goldstein’s, why wouldn’t Queenie also want him back just as bad.

“I’d be going into the dragon’s den,” Tina rolls her eyes, as if infiltrating Grindlewald’s fortress would just have been a walk in the park, “If I failed, I wouldn’t be coming back alive,” 

“You were willing to die for him?” Newt breathes incredulously. Tina really is a wonder. 

“Of course,” Tina replies, just as disbelievingly, as if there were never any doubt, “But after Queenie said I couldn’t I’d be committing treason if I did so,” 

Newt shuts his eyes tight in trepidation. He can already see where this is going. 

“But you did anyway,” He sighs knowingly. 

“Yes,” Tina agrees faintly, “I did,” Her fingers linger on the letter. She picks it up and lets it fall. The paper flutters delicately to the tabletop. 

“I knew Achilles’ from the training yard, we used to spar together,” She speaks numbly, as if reading from an unknown script, “He was sympathetic, he was kind, he said he believed in me, believed what I aimed to do,” Tina pauses, her shoulders tight. Newt imagines she’s like a spring on the inside, wound almost to snapping point. 

“We pooled our money together and bought a ship,” Tina explains tonelessly, “I had the captain’s cabin and Achilles’ slept below with the men, or so I thought,” Newt’s nerves stutter, He forces the hand holding hers loose, but grips his knee with all of his might. If Tina says what he thinks she’s about to say, then he’ll swim across the ocean and hex the man himself. Or he may just drop his wand and punch him in the nose. Tina must somehow sense what he’s thinking.

“Worse than that,” Tina warns him dangerously, “He never touched me. It’s not what he did, it’s what he was hiding,”

“He’d snuck two dozen muggle children below deck,” Newt’s never heard her speak so waspishly before. Her words almost spit with fire. His wife, for a moment, is a dragon, “Bastards, orphans, broken things. Birds without wings. Achilles’ was going to trade them for Credence. As if they were nothing more than cattle or rolls of bread,” Sour vomit rises up in Newt’s throat. 

"They were human beings!" His wife cries out, slapping the tabletop so hard it trembles, "Children, tiny trusting children!" Newt rubs Tina's back comfortingly, also seething with rage. 

“When I found out,” Tina shakes her head. Her face is twisted and puce with anger, “I’ve never been so angry, I yelled and I shouted. And we got caught of course. Grindlewald got the children and he kept Credence. I never even got to see him,” 

“We were sent back in disgrace. I think we were only saved because of our names, and what anger it would cause if we were murdered. Otherwise we would’ve been drawn and quartered,” By her tone Newt doesn’t think she’s joking,” We should’ve done in any case when we got back, we’d committed treason. I’d betrayed my own blood, I expected to be sentenced to death,”

“But you weren’t,” Newt says, quickly feeling her pulse. Yes, his wife is still alive. Bone and flesh. But by Merlin, how? 

“We were brought in front of the whole court, I went first,” Tina says testily, biting her lip. She throws up her hands hopelessly, “It never occurred to me to lie. I explained the whole story truthfully, from beginning to end,” 

“But it occurred to Achilles’,” She spits, “He said I seduced him, that I'd already kept his bed warm, and that we’d escaped to marry secretly in England,” 

“And Queenie believed him? That bastard over you?” Newt pipes up angrily, suddenly furious at his blonde sister in law. The pretty smiling woman from their wedding feast, doesn’t quite equate to the ruthless witch he’s picturing. Tina giggles. Newt stares. 

“You called him a bastard,” She chuckles stupidly, her fingers covering her mouth, “you’re great Newt, I’m glad you’re my husband,” 

“It’s the least he deserves,” Newt mumbles, trying his best not to smile himself. A bubble of joy grows in his chest at her words. Tina’s glad he’s her husband. Could there be any sweeter words? 

“Queenie believed me,” She finally answers his question, “She, she has a gift, she knew I wasn’t lying,” Tina gives him a pointed look, squeezing his hand. Newt gasps with realisation. A legilimens. Tina’s sister can read minds. Theseus and Leta would go crazy if they knew. He’s never going to tell them. Tina is trusting him. Newt won’t betray her. He nods and squeezes her back.

“I love my sister, and my sister loves me,” Tina smiles a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “If she said she believed me she’d have to hang me, but if she said she believed Achilles’…” She shrugs hopelessly. 

“So she pronounced me a harlot to the world,” Tina says dully, “hid me away from accusing eyes till it all blew over, or she could find me a match,”

“And she did,” Newt says wondrously, staring down at the rings that are emblazoned on their fingers. 

“And she did,” Tina repeats gently, her eyes shining bright. 

Newt shakes his head disbelievingly. His wife has just trusted him with an incredible secret. A dangerous one. If he ran his mouth and people believed him, Tina could once again be threatened with the chopping block. ‘And for a ridiculous reason,’ Newt thinks viciously, ‘Tina was doing the right thing, the noble thing, and out of love no less,’ His free hand creeps up and cups her cheek. Tina’s eyes widen, but she leans into his touch. Newt can feel her skin heating under his palm with a light blush. How, out of all the women in the world, did he get matched with such an incredible woman? A kind, loyal, passionate one, who clearly does what is right whatever the cost. 

“Porpentina,” Newt says tenderly, caressing the length of her names syllables, wiping this thumb over her cheek, “you did not have to trust me with this,” Tina’s lips stutter, two fluttering petals. 

“I wanted to,” She proclaims thickly, “I trust you Newton.” Tina smiles and it’s warmth seeps into his soul. Newt feels his lips fall open. He cares for her. More than that. She’s so good. So damn good. He wants to take her in his arms and never let her go again.

Newt squeezes his eyes tight. He has to repay her honesty. Tell her. Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	7. Dungeons and dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Newt tells all, and Tina meets a special creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Sorry this took so bloody long! I didn't mean for it to be, I swear, but some things popped up in my life and yeah. A few finishing paragraphs I thought would take a few days, ended up taking a week. So hope everyone enjoys my- finally- finished chapter.

Tina sits up on her pillows, folding over the page they were reading. Newt is leaning against her fireplace, levitating a new piece of wood into the fire. His head bobs as the log catches alight, and she reaches over to place their current novel safety on the table. 

Newt turns round, smiling crookedly. Tina smiles awkwardly back. Neither of them move, and the loaded moment lingers. She straightens her blankets, waiting for him to leave. They always do this dance- stay together for as long as possible, but it always happens. Newt always leaves. Tina forces her face to stay straight, not twist forlornly. 

Why does he have to leave? 

“Well,” Tina squeaks thinly, “Goodnight then,” 

Newt swings his arms to from side to side. He slowly walks over to her bedside, fingering her canopy with shaky fingers. Tina’s hands involuntarily clench on her bed sheets, as he sidles up next to her, watching her shyly through his fringe.

“Goodnight Tina,” Newt murmurs. He leans down, and his lips brush lightly over her forehead. Tina watches numbly as he swallows, his adam apples bobbing. The place where he touched her burns from the slight stubble around his chin. Newt has leaned back, but he hasn’t properly moved away. His head still hangs over her. The mattress has slightly dipped where he has settled down on top of it. Tina steels her nerves and looks up. Their noses- almost but, not quite- brush. Newt stares at her steadily, never even blinking. 

“Newt,” Tina croaks breathlessly, her hand climbing up to caress the back of his neck. Her fingers play with the hair at his nape, and Newt breathes heavily cupping her cheeks. 

“Oh love,” He sighs and her heart pounds at the adoration. Newt drops down, and his lips graze hers. Tina pushes herself up to meet him properly, but he moves back to her intense disappointment. She tries to tug him back, but Newt merely falls against her; pressing his nose against her cheek. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Her husband asks a slight tremor in his voice. Tina smiles joyfully, pecking the line of his jaw. 

“Yes,” She replies happily, “I’d like that, very much,” Newt laughs delightedly in her ear, snuggling up to her, before kissing her passionately. Tina returns in kind, pressing up against him playing with his shirt ties. Newt equally can’t seem to stop touching her. Touching her waist, skimming the sides of her breasts, tugging at her night dress. He doesn’t let go either; not that Tina was releasing him in any case. They kiss, till she is almost dizzy with lack of oxygen. Yet, still her husband refuses to relent, pressing her into the mattress. 

“Hmph,” 

Tina wakes with a jolt. A warm hand is over her mouth, cutting off her air supply. Tina, terrified, struggles terrifically, and they let go immediately. She sits up abashed, poison on her tongue. Newt sits beside her, his cheeks red in the light of the burning coals of her fire. 

“Newt,” Tina gasps, clutching at her chest. He’s wearing a long navy cloak over his undershirt, and long dark trousers. Newt places his finger gently to his lips, before gesturing for her to follow. Tina nods, curiosity burning in her chest. She slips quietly out of bed, tugging her own coat over her shoulders. 

The corridors are cold and empty. Tina’s bare feet almost burn on the freezing stones. She leans in closer to Newt, clutching his arm, radiating in his warmth. Her husband pulls her into his side, but still says nothing. Though Tina thinks she catches a hint of a small smile, they walk in silence till they arrive at their study. 

The light from Newt wands flows over his bookcase. Tina watches as it bounds over various novels and scrolls. A creature is finally lit; cut out what seems to be a solid block of jade. Its wings are spread, and its jaw is opened in a ferocious manner. Tina watches as Newt reaches up, turning it three quarters to the right. There is a loud click, then a secret door swings open and long, dark passage way is revealed. Tina stares down into the darkness, her heart in her throat, her nerves on edge. Newt steps through, lighting a torch aflame with a flick of his wand, before stashing in a long bag at his waist. 

“Yours too,” Newt murmurs quietly. It’s the first words he’s spoken. Tina slowly rummages in her skirts; her wand is strapped against her leg. She feels his eyes on her, as hint of her bare thigh hits the cool night air. Tina slips her wand into the bag nervously. Newt’s never asked her to hide away her wand before, whatever creature she's encountered. She feels naked without it. 

“He gets angsty around wands,” Newt says, as though that explains everything. Tina makes sure to wrap her hand once again round his forearm as they walk down into the dark abyss together. 

The steps are blunt and jagged, and they dig uncomfortably into Tina’s toes. Newt lights lanterns as they go, and the basement is slowly bathed in warm light. At last the stairs level out. They're not yet at the bottom, though they’ve descended quite a way, but instead are on a small platform. Newt mutters a spell under his breath before launching the torch up into the air, letting the light hover over the entire cavern. Tina blinks into the sudden brightness which has thrown the creature luxuriating on the basement floor into clear view. 

Tina numbly lets Newt go and leans over the balcony, her eyes blown wide and tight with shock. An emerald green creature yawns in a bored manner, and stretches out over its nest of treasure and gold. A flash of long, shining teeth gleam in the firelight. The beast must take up almost half of the basement. Tina can’t imagine what it’s wingspan must be. 

“A dragon,” Tina states bluntly, staring in fascination, “you have a dragon,” 

“Rodger,” Newt agrees admiringly, “A welsh green, isn’t he magnificent,” 

Tina nods blankly, her fingers clenching against the rock. Her grip is so hard, small pieces of rubble cover her palms in a thin line of dust. Tina doesn’t know if it’s out of fear or attraction. Either way her heart is in her throat and she can’t look away. 

Strangely, it’s actually Newt that turns away first, his warmth leaving her side. Tina turns to find him pacing, loping up and down. She leans her back against the rock, waiting nervously. There’s an uncharacteristic hint of anxiety on his face, and his cheeks are pale; his freckles standing out like stars. 

“I have to tell you something,” Newt says uncomfortably. He leans up against the thick wall of rock directly opposite her, "You trusted me with something important, so I would like to tell you," Then he says woefully nothing, his chin against his chest 

“Yes?” Tina asks softly, determinedly ignoring the flutters of hope in her stomach. I can’t be anything about her. At least she hopes it doesn’t, because her husband looks so distraught. 

“Leta, she’s my oldest friend,” Newt explains quietly. Tina can practically taste the tension in the air, as thick as mud, “And once, a long time ago now, we were in love and wanted to marry,”

Tina feels the air leave her lungs. That beautiful, confident, charming woman that is her sister in law was the first one to capture Newt’s heart? ‘How am I even supposed to compare?’ A hysterical voice squeaks in her mind. Tina shuts it down firmly, making sure to school her face in one of simple curiosity.

A thin blush covers Newt’s face, and he refuses to meet her eye determinedly staring off in the distance.

“Her ‘blood’ family is mostly dead, the ones alive are dead to her,” Newt shrugs humbly, “I too was alone with she came to court, my mother had just died, Theseus is eight years older than me… we clung to each other, and became inseparable,” Tina’s heart is pounding in her chest. She wants to hear, but doesn’t at the same time. ‘Don’t be a coward,’ She chides herself sternly, ‘Newt wants to tell me, so I will listen,’. Tina crosses her ankle over the other and settles down against the stone giving him her full attention. 

“We wanted to marry at fifteen, but from all sides it was agreed we were too young to make such a choice, and in any case I had just been given leave to tour Europe,” Newt twists his hands together, “We promised to stay faithful; my adventures would take around three years and when I came back everything could go ahead. And it did, I came back with a case full of creatures and nervously began to plan to propose,” He shakes his head, smiling wryly. Tina smiles softly as well, easily imaging a young Newt pacing nervously round his case, talking to himself, desperately trying think of the right words. 

“Leta…She was always good at court. She didn’t like most of the witches and wizards, but she loved the game, the intrigue. I came back to her being one of the main players in the resistance, finding out information and dealing it to the right members,” Newt crinkles his nose,”Her and Theseus worked together on the front lines, I mainly stayed in the background, although I loved to show people my creatures I had found and rescued and many actually began to warm to them,” He smiles weakly at the thought. That smile quickly evaporates. 

“Then one night,” Newt says stiffly, his head banging against the brick wall, “A spy was caught, Abernathy was his name I think, and a few were chosen to interrogate him; Leta was one of them,” Tina can practically see her husband grinding his teeth. 

“She asked me to borrow Rodger, just for a little while, I didn’t know, she didn’t say,” Newt wrings his hands fretfully. Tina looks below apprehensively. Rodgers claws, as big and as sharp as long swords gleam in the firelight. He yawns, and rows and rows of teeth shine up at her. 

“What happened?” Tina asks faintly, trying to keep some sort of calm in her voice. She fears she is unsuccessful, when Newt looks up at her clearly distraught.

“It wasn’t either of their faults, it was an accident, Leta couldn’t know how to control him and he was just a baby,” He cries out desperately, and Tina nods just as quickly, rushing to take his hands in hers. 

“I believe you,“ She presses them to her chest, rubbing her thumbs over the back of his hands gently, “I believe you,” Tina whispers, and Newt tries to smile, but all that comes out is a wet grimace. He clutches her hands to him as if she were his life line. 

“He came out more ash than man, I still don’t really know what happened,” Newt murmurs, his face clenched in pain, “I do know he screamed for three days straight before he finally passed, the sound echoed all up the corridors, I can still hear it sometimes,” Tina's jaw drops, horrified. She puts it back determinedly, gathering her courage together.

“It’s not your fault Newt,” Tina tells him fiercely, “It wasn’t any ones,” 

“But it had to be some ones,” Newt shrugs despairingly, “Leta came to me hysterical, I had to take the blame, she was my first friend, my first love,” Tina nods passionately, despite the prick of pain in her heart. She refuses to feel this tide of unnecessary jealousy. Not now, not while her husband his baring his soul out to her. Tina bats the sickening feeling away, to cup Newt’s cheeks as he cries.

“I didn’t mind being sent away,” He sniffs pitifully, a sad burst of inappropriate laughter bursting out of his nose, “I hated court, and this is my family home, I’d much rather be here,” 

Tina nods quietly, hopelessly, still not quite understanding. Newt clearly isn’t blaming Leta from what happened, nor is he blaming Rodger. Yet why are his eyes shining with barely repressed tears? Why didn't they get married in any case? Tina clenches her jaw, heartbroken, as he breaks away from her touch, marching over to lean over the balcony. 

“But,” Newt looks down gaping soundlessly, his words stuck in his throat, “But as I left, that’s what really… They, the court, condemned me, my creatures, said I should kill them, be done with it, that they were evil, would be murders,” Tina clutches her forearms tightly letting her nails pull at her robes fabric. 

“But he was Grindelwald’s spy,” She says, her voice now more than a breath. Newt laughs again, a sardonic bark that makes her cringe.

“I said they were harmless, and then the next minute someone was dead,” His shoulders give a jolt, his muscles too tense to shrug, “They didn’t care, didn’t listen, I was paraded out of court in disgrace, a ‘beast-man’ who had no problem letting his wild-life roam free to hurt and destroy,” Newt throws his head back. Tina sees that he’s finally let the tears fall. His cheeks are shiny in the firelight. 

“The funny thing is, I didn’t really mind. I mean I did, but- Most of them didn’t have the knowledge of how amazing they are, how beautiful. They saw a creature and a dead man and let their imaginations do the rest. And I was allowed to take everyone with me, and no-one was hurt, not even Rodger here,” He throws a hand into the pit, and Rodger nods his head up at him happily. 

“But Leta, Leta knew how amazing they were, she used to join me in the case…she said she loved them, loved me,” Newt spits out dangerously, tears and pain scraping the edges of his words, “yet she stood back, silent, and let everyone…shit on my creatures, my beautiful creatures!” He shakes his head, his whole body vibrating. 

“I left, never to return and two years later I received the news that she and Theseus had married,” Newt turns back towards her slightly, a miserable smile hanging round his mouth, “and that was that,”

“It would’ve been difficult, to speak up” Tina begins nervously, not liking the way Newt’s hands are gripping the stone balcony. The way his shoulders are vibrating with barely restrained tension. She wonders dimly if he’s told this to anyone before, ever; about how he really felt. 

“You would have!” The loud brutal sound explodes out of him, “You told the truth with Credence, Tina, you were willing to die, all I wanted was someone-” Newt turns away, his eyes rimmed red. He doesn’t say anymore. Tina swallows harshly. All she has is a few letters and the briefest of first impressions. She is not going to judge her sister in law, especially for something that happened so long ago. But her husband is hurting, badly, from an old and painful wound. Tina lays her hand on his arm. Newt’s already hard muscles clench underneath her fingertips. 

“It would’ve been difficult,” Tina stammers again, the hand on Newt’s arm more firm than her voice, “With all those people watching, it’s hard to speak up when a majority have already made up their minds,” He gives one violent nod, but stays silent. Tina strokes his arm 

“But I am sorry, Newt,” Tina whispers tearfully, “I am sorry that it happened to you, you didn’t- don’t deserve it,” 

Newt’s hand covers her own. He grips it tightly. They look at each other. Tina realises she’s worrying at her lip, and stops. She takes a step forward, then another, hesitantly, to make sure her embrace would be welcomed. Newt’s jaw clenches, but his shoulders fall weakly forward, and Tina rushes hug him. Warm, trembling arms encircle her gently, then tightly as Tina squeezes him, almost picking her off her feet. 

“Thank you Tina,” Newt sniffles.

“You were hurt by someone you love,” Tina says softly into his neck, “You don’t have to thank me,” She doesn’t want to sound despondent, so she tries to sound as blank as possibly despite the crackles of feelings in her heart. Newt leans back, and Tina smiles as best she can, which she’s afraid may be a grimace. She knows it is, as his eyes flicker with realisation.

“Leta is my oldest friend,” Newt says quietly, “Her children are my beautiful nieces, she is my sister, and I love her,” Tina nods numbly. Each breath she takes feels like needles digging into her throat. Why should what he says so hurt so much? Tina grates her teeth together, and blinks rapidly, determined not to cry.

“But I’m not in love with her,” Newt’s thumb grazes down her chin, catching the edge of her lip of an inch of a second, “Not anymore, Tina,” She takes a sharp intake of breath, her lips unconsciously opening. What does that mean? Is he just not in love in Leta anymore? They’re standing so close. Tina can see every freckle, every unshaved hair around his mouth and over his top lip. Or does it mean that he….She grazes her bottom lip with her teeth as she smiles, and Newt makes a indescribable noise, leaning towards her. 

“Tina,” He breathes. It’s half a statement, half a question. She’s in the middle of deciding to shut her eyes, when Rodger lets out a loud roar. 

Rattled, they both jump, staring in confusion over the balcony. The dragon has gotten to his feet. Rodger wags his gargantuan bottom in the air, looking, absurdly, like a large puppy. Tina hides her mirth in Newt’s shoulder, as the creatures tail bangs forcefully on the ground with great large 'booms'. Newt chuckles, and it warms Tina’s heart to hear it.

“What is he doing?” She asks him quietly, as Rodger flashes them an sinister grin. 

“He’s trying to get me to play,” Newt rubs the back of his head wryly, “I think he wants to cheer me up,” Tina looks up. Her husband is alight with yearning. 

“Could I meet him?” She asks quickly, her need to make him happy, much stronger than her fear of Roger’s powerful jaws and smoking nostrils. 

“Would you really like to?” Newt turns to her, his eyes wide. No wonder, after his recent confession of the creature’s involvement in a horrendous murder. 

“Of course,” Tina replies eagerly, smiling softly as he almost drags her down the stairs. 

Her smile slowly droops a little, as they land on the lower floor. The creature towers over them, like Cerberus does to those in the underworld. Tina’s steps involuntarily get shorter as they come face to face- well knee to knee with Rodger the dragon. 

“Ello’ Rodger,” Newt greets him cheerfully, though Tina notes his fingers digging into her shoulder, “I’ve told you about Tina, haven’t I?”

“You have?” Tina asks wondrously, beaming despite herself. Newt winks at her, so quick she almost misses it. Tina winks nervously back, as he pushes her forward, winding himself around her. His fingers wrap firmly around her wrist, and she can tell from his touch that the worst thing she could possibly do right now is run. 

Rodger sits before them, like a puppy begging for treats; a treat Tina would be happy to give if she wasn’t currently busy hyperventilating. Newt is practically holding up her hand as the beast looms towards her. His nostrils are the size of her forearms. 

“Go ahead,” Newt whispers encouragingly. Tina tentatively presses forward. 

The scales are hot in Tina’s palms, like a kettle after boiling. Her fingers dance across them in case she burns herself. Rodger’s eyes blink at her. They look like they have been carved out of amber, and glitter in the candle light. He is an old ancient thing. Cut from the earth itself. Tina is caught with the urge to curtsey to him, to bare her neck. 

“Hello,” She whispers tentatively, “I’m Tina,” Tina inclines her head in deference but is unwilling to lose the dragons eye. His pupils are vertical stripes, like a snakes. 

Rodger moves forward, with a large rustle of wings. Newt’s hand tightens around her wrist. He lays the other on her hip. Her husband’s heat and the dragons enclose around her. Tina feels as though she’s being roasted in an oven. 

“Careful, careful,” Newt murmurs in her ear, though whether to her, or the dragon, Tina couldn’t say. All she knows is that Rodger’s fiery lips touch her forehead, the same time Newt’s graze her cheek. 

Rodger leans back, ruffling his wings in a pleased manner, before trudging away to his pile of gold. He settles down with a force that makes the walls tremble. The dragon curls up like a cat, tucking his emerald green tail around himself securely. 

Newt doesn’t let her go. Even when Tina’s out stretched hand falls limp, and his arm falls with her. He merely wraps it around her waist and she leans back into him. Tina’s cheek burns more than her forehead, even though logic argues that the latter should hurt more. 

“Did he like me?” Tina asks, her throat red and raw, “Did I do okay?” 

“Brilliant, you did brilliant,” Newt assures her softly, “He hasn’t kissed many people,”  
Tina feels her chest swell with unearned pride. She tries to bat it down, but it stays, lighting her chest with dragon fire. 

“He’s magnificent,” Tina tells Newt truthfully, and he squeezes her tighter, “But surely he doesn’t like it down here,”

She looks up at the dark cavernous room above them. Though enormous, there would be only enough room for Rodger to get off the ground. Flying would certainly be out of the question. Unless they desired a castle made of rubble. Newt sighs, his displeasure hot on her neck. 

“No, no he does not,” Newt spits distastefully. For the first time, Tina hears true anger on her husband’s tongue,” But if I let him out they are sure to kill him, every side too, Grindlewald despises dragons,” 

Tina spins in his arms, to study the half furious, half forlorn face of Newton Scamander. 

“But couldn’t you just let him-“ Tina asks obviously. Newt shakes his head quickly, taking a step away from her. 

“No, no I can’t,” Newt glances over to Rodger wistfully, but shakes his head again clearly unwillingly, “They would either cut him down or me, and then the rest of my creatures would be left alone,” Tina’s eyes widen and her mouth falls agape. 

“You mean you want to ride him?” She wonders out loud. 

“Of course,” Newt speaks as though she were the crazy one,” That is how I mean to travel the world you see, on the back of a Rodger,” Tina watches the whimsical spirals of smoke twirl up from the dragon’s nostrils. The amount of smoke erupting from him, is almost as tall as her. What would it be like to ride such a creature. How on earth would you hang on? Newt would know. He always knew. He would also love to show her. Tina blinks. That’s it. She takes his hand. Newt threads their fingers together absently. 

“Promise me, you’ll take me up one day,” She orders him passionately. Newt gapes at her. 

“Tina, I can’t,” He says agonizingly, clenching her hand close to painfully. Tina shakes her head firmly. 

“Not today, not even next week,” She says meaningfully, “But after all this is over, promise me you’ll take me up, and we can go somewhere, on an adventure,”

Newt beams, the first real smile she’s seen from him all night. 

“I promise,” He swears quietly, and Tina knows he means it, and smiles widely back.  
Suddenly the ring on her finger doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. Instead, it almost feels as though it’s meant to be there. So is the burning, desperate hope that Newt feels the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!  
> I really like Leta, but this is just my personal headcannon of what happened between them (of course, set in the past and fit to this story). It had to be bad enough that, although they both cared about each other, neither of them reached out so...yeah- this is just what I think happened.


	8. The urgent insistence of Theseus Scamander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt receives some terrible news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Something is finally going to happen... and yeah! Enjoy!

His notebook trembles. Newt ignores it, pulling on his boots with a vigour. It’s the third warm day in a row and he and Tina had been taking advantage of this fact by practically living outside. On Monday he took her up his favourite mountain, to see the graphorn’s and their new born. Tuesday she led him into the forest, away from the prying eyes of the soldiers to teach him sword fighting. Today- well today, whoever makes it down the stairs first gets to choose. And Newt’s going to win. 

“Sir, it’s your brother,” Dougal says, wincing at the way Newt tugs on his waistcoat completely careless of the golden buttons. He’d started off the dressing process. But Newt had quickly gotten antsy at the flutter of activity he could hear from next door and eventually he’d battered his manservant away.

Newt had dreamed about taking Tina to see Arnold for a while, but the creature is quite defiant the bugger, and only appears on certain days. He’s determined that she’ll get to see him. Theseus can wait, his news be damned. Dougal peers into the notebook, turning the pages with a haughty finger.

“He seems quite insistent, sir,” His manservant sighs tiredly. 

“Does he,” Newt replies disinterestedly, tugging on his coat and snatching up his wand. He can still hear a faint rustling coming from Tina’s quarters. 

Newt grins deliriously. He’s won, she’s going to see him. His chest puffs up happily.   
Tina always gets a special look on her face when she sees his creatures. He loves it, his heart burns for it: that look of complete wonder and awe. Newt’s fingers tingle with anticipation. He’s decided. Tina’s going to see Arnold, she’ll make that face, then he’s going to kiss her. Today is the day. Newt’s finally going to do it. He’s going to kiss his wife. 

“Right,” Newt says to Dougal cheerfully, his insides jittering with excited nerves, “I’m off,” Dougal bows low; his eyes unreadable, a small smile round his mouth. 

Newt turns towards the door, his hand reaching eagerly for the knob.   
Then a large burst of fire shoots out from the fireplace, searing Newt’s neck hairs. 

“Newt!” His brothers voice booms. 

Newt was twenty minutes late to their meeting spot. Tina’s grin illuminated the stairwell, until she saw the look on his face. She let him choose where they went that day, because of course she did. ‘She’s such a darling,’ Newt muses dreamily, pressing his nose against Tina’s dark hair. They’d taken his horse, Bunty, who seemed fully disgruntled about the whole experience. She doesn't seem to like Tina, for some reason. Newt had ignored his steads huffing. He’s got to talk to his wife. Alone. Without their guards overhearing. 

Who knows who is listening. 

Tina leans back in his arms, pressing herself flush against him. Newt sends up a silent prayer to let his libido behave, as she sighs heavily. 

“Do we really have to go down to Hogwarts?” Tina whines softly. Newt can feel the tension running through her back. He knows exactly how she feels. He feels the same; a large dark cloud has covered his early morning happiness. Newt feels like they’ve cultivated a little piece of paradise up here- away from court and its terrors. 

“Unfortunately,” Newt mumbles despondently, settling his chin on her shoulder. Tina barks out a depressed laugh.

“I don’t see why Theseus thinks we can do something,” Tina huffs angrily “I mean we all saw this coming- of course they’re back in two camps again,” She clicks Bunty into a faster trot, letting out her frustration with the horse’s hoofs. 

“Queenie and Leta are hardly working together, are they?” Tina continues wryly, and Newt chuckles into the wind. Understatement of the century. He quickly mellows though, at their uncertain future. He doesn’t want to become a poster boy, or see Tina built up on a pedestal she doesn’t desire; though deserves. 

“They just need to see us united, I suppose,” Newt shrugs distastefully. He tightens his arms around her, to direct Bunty’s reins in the right direction. Her left hand entwines over his and their wedding rings clink together.

“How much more united could we be?” Tina asks softly. Newt stays silent, his brother’s voice ringing in his ears. 

“Have you bedded her yet Newton?”

“Why on earth should that matter?”

“Because besides the fact it means your lovely wife is not pregnant, it also means your wife is not technically your wife,”

“Newt,” Tina asks gently, almost turning round in her seat to catch his eye, “are you alright?” Newt looks down. He’s gripping her hand so tightly he’s left marks. Red faced, he loosens his grip trying to wriggle back into the saddle. Tina doesn’t let him, pulling his hands to her stomach, tying him to her. 

‘She’s such a caring person,’ Newt thinks lovingly. Her head is directed towards him. He can see the kindness shining fiercely in her eyes, her lips slightly open in shy empathy. Tina’s cheeks have been sweetened by the wind, and there’s a scratch on her nose delivered from an unruly niffler. Something wild roars in Newt’s chest, and she stares worriedly at him. 

Damn Theseus, damn him to hell. Tina is his wife. His wife. No matter if they never have sex, never have children. Tina cares for him, his creatures, is loyal, selfless and kind. And he, Newt, is her husband. His eyes flicker to her lips, soft, like petals blooming under the shining sun. Does Tina feel just as passionately about him? Or is it all in his head, made of wishes and dreams? 

“Neigh!” Bunty snots disgruntledly. Both witch and wizard jump. Newt reluctantly flicks his eye away from Tina. Bunty’s hooves are brushing up against the dark water of the loch and she shakes her head, steadfastly refusing to go in. 

“We’re here,” Newt announces stupidly, his voice falsely bright. Tina dismounts silently. He follows trying his best to ignore how she refuses to look at him, instead intensely examining the large flat rocks by the lake side. ‘She saw you,’ Newt mentally hits himself, ‘she saw you staring at her lips, you idiot, you spooked her off,’. He kicks a pebble and it lands with a frustrated plop into the water. 

“Perhaps,” Tina begins, her voice cautious. Newt turns towards her, to find her turning a stone over in her fingers; her eyebrows furrowed in indecision. 

“Yes?” Newt asks curiously. 

“Perhaps we don’t have to go to Hogwart’s straight away,” She says shyly, throwing her own stone in with a splash, “We can just apparate after all,” 

“Theseus said to leave tomorrow…” Newt sighs hopelessly. But her works stay with him, and click over in his brain. Until finally…Theseus would hex him into the next morning. And it would definitely be worth it.

“We have to go,” Newt smiles mischievously, and Tina glares at him suspiciously, “But let’s not go by magic,” His wife’s mouth falls open, her jaw practically bouncing on the ground.

“Newt, you can’t be serious,” She scolds him as only she can, her gaze hot, “we can’t go by foot! We’d have to bring half our house-hold, and practically all of the soldiers,” Newt’s grin grows wider; he throws an arm around her stiff shoulders. 

“It would take weeks,” He raises two taunting eyebrows, trying not to chuckle at her persistent serious expression. Although yes, just in the corner of Tina’s perfect lips. The hint of a restrained smile. 

“Weeks,” Tina says. There’s no doubt about; that’s definitely a grin. Her own arm wraps around his waist, and Newt’s heart blossoms as she leans into him, “You’re a terrible man Mr Scamander,” 

“That’s why you married me,” Newt quips, grinning cheekily. Tina’s laughter fills the air with joy.

“You’re an idiot,” She chuckles, hiding her head in his shoulders. Newt’s courage swells up inside of him. Her limbs are trembling with mirth. Tina’s let her hair fall free, a rarity these days, and it falls in long waves around her shoulders. It’s mused on her forehead where she’d leaned into him, and Newt takes a moment to straighten the strands. He lets his thumb linger on her skin, and Tina beams nervously at him. 

‘Do it Newton,’ His subconscious screams at him, ‘Just do it!’ But Newt’s frozen to the spot, caught by her smile. Plus, it’s suddenly started raining. No, not raining. He turns to the loch to find Arnold staring knowingly down at him, his large eyes sparkling as he shakes water off his mane. 

“Arnold,” Newt stutters, throwing weak hand up in the beasts direction. He doesn't notice how Tina has barely turned to look, “He’s a Kelpie,” 

“I love him,” She states quietly, and Newt grins proudly as Arnold preens. Splashing, and showing off his different forms to Tina's astonishment, Arnold finishes his performance by diving into the abyss as an elegant dolphin. 

“Come on,” He says, holding out a hand for her to take, “Let’s enjoy our last day at home properly,” Tina doesn’t take his hand, but she’s still smiling. Newt clenches his hand nervously as his grip remains empty. 

Tina takes one step, then another, till his eyes get blurry with the effort of keeping her in focus. The first thing he feels is tentative fingers wrapping around his wrist, almost as if she’s steadying herself. The second thing Newt feels is her lips on his. They’re dry, slightly chapped from the wind, and nervous as if she's not quite sure what she is doing. In other words, perfect. 

Newt’s brain has gone into survival mode. He’s kissing her back almost as an instinct, real him is still reeling from delighted shock. Tina kissed him. Tina is kissing him! Slowly his nerve comes back to him, and he jumps to kiss her back. Properly, letting his emotions flood in the action, his hand winding up to cup her cheek. There’s no doubt from his mind, Tina meant it to be a delicate thing, a simple press of lips. He refuses to let it be so, loosening it slightly; pushing into her. Tina lets out a little sigh, her fingers falling limp into his own.

Newt hums before breaking away. His lips are tingling. Tina is touching her mouth with her free hand. He can see her grin through her fingertips. Newt lets out a delighted sound, not a laugh, more of a whine caught in the back on his throat. He urges the sun to never set; he never wants this day to end. He swings their entwined hands together, and Tina's other hand falls letting her smile shine brightly for all the world to see.

“That was…” She begins, but demurs, not able to finish her sentence, a blush crawling down her neck. 

“Yes,” Newt finishes for her, “Yes it was,” They stare at each other speechless for far too long. Apparently Arnold thinks so too, for almost a wave topples over them soaking them to the bone.

“Mercy Lewis!” Tina spits, twisting a piece of lake weed out of her hair.

Newt does truly laugh now, tugging her into the water. She shrieks as the freezing water climbs up their thighs. Arnold sweeps around them, his weedy body swinging round excitedly. Sharp teeth bite playfully at Newt’s toes. He pulls Tina in deeper; she’s hanging onto him so tightly he thinks his circulation is about to cut off. Perhaps informing her about a Kelpie’s permanence to eat people was not the best practice before they met said creature. Newt smiles adoringly at her widen eyes, before leaning in to kiss her softly. When he breaks away, he’s satisfied to see Tina’s eyes have become hazy. How amazing it is to be able to do that now. Newt raises his eyebrows up, playfully. 

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asks her, and Tina takes a deep breath and nods. 

“As long as he doesn’t eat me,” She says quickly, as he pulls her towards Arnold's slimy back. The creature blinks up at her innocently- too innocently, and she judges him with a critical eye. 

“He won’t,” Newt says quickly, sending him a firm look, before hastily hoisting Tina on to his back. He swoops up behind her. 

“You know I never believe you when you say things like that,” Newt hears her cry out, as Arnold begins to swim, at quite a speed, into the middle of the lake.

“I know,” He says wryly, smiling widely as her gay laugh bounces across the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	9. The moon and the mooncalves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An incident and another first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Next chapter up! This one is set in the time between them traveling, by foot, to hogwarts. Hope everyone enjoys! 
> 
> Disclaimer: This chapter involves mentions of death/infant death. If this could trigger you in any way, please do not read it.

The moonlight streams through her tent. Tina groans, rolling on to her stomach and throws her pillow over her head. It’s the third time this night she’s awoken, though it feels like the twentieth. Feeling more awake than sleepy, she throws off her covers in frustration. Tina won’t thank herself for this in the morning, but right now she doesn’t care one jolt. 

The afternoon rains had made the ground thick with sludge, and their horses have not helped matters. Tina steps neatly into her boots before throwing over her coat- already shivering in the cool night air. To her surprise the coat hangs loosely around her shoulders, it’s sleeves pooling over her fingertips. Tina inhales deeply. It smells like dirt, dung and springtime. Newt. Tina hugs it around her tightly, a silly smile on her face as she pushes her tent flaps aside. 

If her guards were shocked by her presence they do a good job of hiding it, and step neatly aside to let her pass. Tina slugs her way through the camp, passing silently by groups of soldiers, laughing with drink and gaggles of women gossiping round fire pits. 

The candles in Newt’s tent are still glowing strong. She can see them flickering through the canvases fabric. Tina steps briskly up to the opening, anxious to get out of the cold, her teeth busy chattering. Her fingers are about to brush open Newt’s tents flaps when-

“Arghh!” A ginger headed man jumps out of the shadows, brandishing a goblet as a weapon. His face is bronze with drink and Tina lets out a squeak half-way between a scream and a giggle as he stumbles. 

“Ronald!” An another man cries indignantly as Tina stumbles backwards, her heart pounding like a drum, “It’s our lady,” 

“Oo, it is too,” The man called Ronald cries, leaning closer to Tina’s face with all the grace of an elephant. He’s almost as freckly as Newt himself, and his blue eyes shine bright with mirth, “come to visit our lord,” Ronald waggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. 

Tina pauses gulping, the vision of Newt rising over her, his eyes blazing flowing unheeded through her mind. Her own eyes glaze over as her dream continues; Newt’s hot mouth on neck, Newt grasping her bare hips as she climbs on top of him, Newt’s whispered sweet nothings as they lie together afterwards, her head on his chest.

Ronald grins cheekily down at her, and Tina’s face heats up as she realises his imaginings must reflect her own. The aim of her visit was his company, was to talk, to have some sweet wine; nothing untoward. But of course the talk will be circulating round the camp by daybreak. That their lady crept over to share a bed with their lord. The thought is almost enough to make Tina run back to her tent, her tail between her legs. She takes an anxious step backwards. 

“Weasley, don’t be an arse,” The second man steps into view. He has a large brown beard that obscures most of his face. But his dark eyes twinkle kindly at her and unconsciously her nerves relax, “don’t mind him my lady, he’s had too much to drink and he’s missing his wife,” 

“Right,” Tina says faintly. Is Newt missing his wife? Or is she making a ridiculous misjudgement that she can just walk into his tent unannounced in the dead of night. 

In all their late night talks he always came to her room, and in the last few days her tent. What on earth is he going to think of her? That she’s finally come to… 

The guards hold the tent flaps open for her, and despite her conscience screaming at her, her legs walk slowly forward; much too awkward to change her mind. Her husband is missing from his bed, as she knew he might be. She pours herself a glass of wine into a doublet to steady herself.

As she sips, her wary eyes examine an open book lies which lies on the table. She’d expected a novel or a history book, but what Tina finds makes her gasp with amazement. The pages are not covered in writings, but with pictures. Creatures, so lifelike they almost jump of the pages, clearly drawn by Newt’s own hand. Some she’s seen- like dragons, spitting fire and kelpies leaping out of waves. And some she hasn’t- unicorns nuzzling their offspring and strange beasts with lion tails and griffin’s heads. Tina flips through the book eagerly, and finds more marvellous creatures, each complete with Newt’s scrawl which gives in-depth descriptions.

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina mumbles entranced, taking in a drawing of a monstrous looking cat, before flipping over to the final filled page. 

It’s drawings of her. Tina Scamander. So intricate, she could almost be looking in a mirror. Her mouth open angrily, as she waves her dagger threateningly. Her on the back of the kelpie, laughing wildly. Her on their wedding night, looking small and timid. Newt’s finished them all except for one, the biggest on that takes up a full page. He’s somehow managed to make her eyes shine, as if by candlelight. Tina can see pools of light drawn masterfully in her irises. Drawing Tina’s mouth is half-open, and she’s staring out at the reader as if they hold the world in their hands. The shadow of what will eventually be Rodger, looms over her shoulder. 

Real Tina runs a finger over herself with shaky fingers. Newt hasn’t written any scribbled exclamations over these pages. All there is, is multiple identical statements written under each picture in a careful hand. 

‘My wife,’ Newt has penned, at first softly in lead, but then stronger in ink as the drawings continue.

Tina smiles. A wide cheek splitting smile. She tucks her hair neatly behind her ear. Then pulls it forward again, twisting the strands haphazardly between her fingers. Her cup lays on the table forgotten. His wife. Newt’s wife. That's her.

Happily feeling much more confident in her surprise visit, Tina clambers down into his case: which had been left open at the end of his bed. 

She walks out of his shed and into chaos. What is normally a ruckus of beastly sounds, have shifted up into a monstrosity. The various snarks and growls ring in Tina’s ears as she stumbles out into the din. She’s a familiar face now, and normally gets crowded with attention from creatures either searching for food or pats. But tonight she pushes her way through the habitats without so much as a second glance. Everyone is giving their full attention to place where it’s always night in the case- the hidey-hole of the mooncalves. 

Tina’s brow furrows as she hears various terrified squeaks and painful moans admitting from the baubled eyed creature’s mouths. A frazzled red head walks among them, his normally calm demeanour shattered. Tina’s strides get wider, her steps brisker, until finally she’s close enough to see. 

A mother mooncalf is busy giving birth; four petite legs dangle out from under her as she pushes, admitting painful squawks. A multitude of clearly newly born babies bob about, wide eyed and curious. There’s six. 

“Oh no,” Tina moans in horror. There’s seven. But one is milky white in colour and its eyes reflect nothing. He’s lying on the ground, clearly unable to stand. His little legs move weakly as his brothers and sisters nudge him.

Newt races frantically between them both, but no longer has he settled one, then the other cries out for help. Tina can see the strain in her husband’s neck. The sweat flows off his back, causing his night shirt to stick to his skin. 

“Newt,” Tina calls out, bounding down to meet him, “let me help,” 

“Tina?” Newt looks up wildly. Frustrated tears stream down his face, which is deflated in grief. He halts for a moment, gaping at her. Tina imagines she does look quite the sight. Dresses in muddy boots, a nightdress under his very own coat and slept in hair which must be a bird’s nest. He honestly doesn’t look much better. Newt’s wearing old, tattered, work pants that are loose around his knees. His hair is so sweaty it’s stayed in place when he’s clearly gone to push it off his forehead and his shirt is soaked to it being see-through with sweat, blood and other indescribable fluids. 

‘He looks beautiful,’ Tina thinks absently, her mouth and throat suddenly quite dry. Newt seems equally dumbstruck. But he snaps out of it faster than she does. 

“Tina, you shouldn’t be here,” He shakes his head at her, almost starting to shoo her away, “You shouldn’t be here to see this,” His voice breaks and Newt covers his mouth- devastated- with a palm. 

Quick as lightening Tina rushes over, taking his head in her hands. Her fingers twist into his hair and Newt sighs, his forehead falling forward into her touch.

“I can handle it,” Tina tells him softly and Newt nods minisculely, taking slow, shallow breaths as her thumbs sweep gently across his cheeks. They stand like that for a moment, until a pain-ridden squeak knocks them into action.

“Can you help Matilda?” He points to the labouring mother, already pulling his wand out from behind his ear. 

“Of course,” Tina says reassuringly, “it is woman’s business after all,” Newt passes her a small thankful smile, before returning back to the task of the sick baby with vigour. 

Tina bends down next to Matilda, and surveys the situation. The mother’s eyes are wide and anxious. She’s pushing out her child hysterically- not giving herself time for rest or breathing space. Tina can see why. Her last little mooncalf is breech and its bulbous head is stuck in her opening. And most dangerous of all, it’s little legs are no longer moving.

Sharp tears sting at Tina’s eyes, as long pressed down memories return to her with a vengeance. A hot stuffy room. Two days of screams and pants. A baby green and motionless is a limp woman’s arms. They’d had to pry her hands away, Tina remembers. She hadn’t wanted to leave. Didn’t understand why her mother wasn’t opening her eyes again. 

She runs a gentle, yet firm hand over Matilda’s pelt.  
“This is going to hurt sweetling,” Tina croaks out, as the mooncalf turns to her, her eyes frantic but trusting. 

Tina nods at the creatures apparent acquiesce. The she slips her fingers under the stuck baby’s head, attempting with all her might to stretch the child free. Matilda whines at the intrusion and Tina murmurs quiet encouragements. And after a few moments of straining and blood; the little one pops free. 

Matilda lets out a sharp cry and begins to lick her child to life with a wet tongue. But it’s to no avail. The baby’s eyes are shut, and it’s limbs are stiff. They never even got to see to moon. Tina begins to cry in earnest, her cheeks quickly becoming damp. She waves her wand in a circle, and a wreath of white roses fall around the baby as a shroud. Matilda howls. 

Warm arms wrap around her from behind. Tina leans back, sobbing into Newt’s shoulder as he mumbles tender nothings in her ear. His voice is also wracked with grief, and they rock together crying. The other little mooncalves have begun singing with their mother, their high wails joining in chorus. 

“Come on,” Newt says hoarsely, pulling her up by the arm, “let’s leave them to grieve,” Tina follows mindlessly, wiping her nose on her coat’s sleeve. 

They wander far away from the depressing party, and collapse down on a free rock, empty of both creature and dung. Tina can’t stop crying. The little mooncalf has morphed in her mind into her little brother and she sobs until there’s nothing left but a dull ache in her chest. Newt’s arm is a constant comfort around her, and her hand falls on her thigh in thanks. 

“I’m sorry,” She mutters, feeling exceedingly wrung dry, “being silly,” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Newt replies fiercely, his grip tightening around her hip, “It’s my fault, I could see it might not end happily,” 

Tina shakes her head, and leans forward pressing her lips affectionately to his cheek. Newt smiles sadly at her as she pulls away and she smiles weakly. 

“It wasn’t you,” Tina promises truthfully, “It just brought up bad memories, that’s all,” 

Newt nods dutifully, before turning away his cheeks aflame. They sit in silence for a moment. His leg is hot under her touch and Tina leans into him, her emotions exhausting her to sleepiness. 

“The other mooncalf, my mooncalf,” Newt says after a time, and Tina forces her eyelids open to look at him, “he survived,” 

“What?” Tina cries happily, bobbing up, suddenly feeling about ten times lighter. She slaps Newt playfully on the arm and he grins, rubbing the spot teasingly, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I have now, haven’t I?” He rubs the back of his head humbly, “it looked disastrous there for a while, but I got him through in the end,” Newt smiles wider, clearly enthused by the thought. Tina bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes wide and glassy, completely enamoured.

“You’re so amazing,” Tina tells him shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “what on earth did I do in life to deserve a husband like you,” She presses her free hand over the one she’s pressed to his knee; blushing, yet sure of her sudden proclamation. 

Newt gapes at her for a moment. Then he takes both her hands in his, and kisses them reverently. Tina’s heart jitters as he looks up at her, his green eyes bright with admiration. 

“What about you?” He asks breathlessly, his fingers trembling as he holds her, “Tina…I’ve never met anyone like you before,”

“You’re like a Valkyrie, fierce and dangerous,” The words could’ve offended any other woman. But Tina beams up at him, his complement sending a bolt of light through her chest. At her reaction Newt leans forward, bumping her nose with his own. Tina’s lungs deflate themselves of oxygen as Newt twists one of his hands round her neck. 

“And when you smile at me,” He continues, his voice no more loud than her breathing, “Merlin Tina, I-“ 

Newt shakes his head, seemingly lost for words, before sweeping forward capturing her in a magnificent kiss. Tina responds with intense enthusiasm, melting into his passionate embrace. It's much more than the few small pecks they've shared. The same tug, the same warmth of their wedding night comes back to her; and Tina sighs happily. Kissing Newt is like settling into a warm bath. He has a fist full of her hair and Tina has rooted herself to his collar, whining at a particularly hard tug which strains at her scalp. They break apart panting. Tina peppers kisses to his jaw, while Newt plays lovingly with her hair, sending shivers down her spine. 

“I love you in this,” He mumbles roughly, pulling at his robe, “You’re so beautiful Tina, especially in my clothes,” 

“Really?” Tina asks breathlessly, the word ‘beautiful’ ringing in her ears. She nibbles just below his chin in thanks, his stubble rubbing her own skin raw.

“Hmm,” Newt hums in agreement, pulling back her hair and nuzzling the space behind her ear, “you smell like me now,” 

Tina looks up at him, halting her assault. Newt looks almost sheepish as he stares back at her, his fingers twisting the fabric of his robe. 

“Is that…a good thing?” She asks, almost anxiously. Tina knew men liked women smelling of flowers or spices from the east. But like themselves? 

“Yes, to me,” Newt replies softly, his cheeks reddening. He doesn’t unfold this vague statement. But he looks so suddenly unsure of himself, that Tina can’t help but smiling softly at him, and it widens as his shoulders straighten. 

“Can I keep this then?” She asks, gesturing to her outfit, biting her lip as Newt’s eyes darken. 

“Please,” He croaks, kissing her again incessantly. 

They end up wrapped round each other. Tina almost in his lap, Newt’s lips against his shoulder. She stifles a yawn behind her hand, giggling as soon his own follows. 

“Bed?” She whispers tiredly. 

“Yes, I think so,” Newt replies, though he sounds almost put out. The shadows under his eyes must win over however, for he leads the way out of his case. But not before her hand is tightly enclosed in his. 

They climb out awkwardly, prevented from a smooth ascension by their mutual decision to keep holding hands. Tina struggles out last and they stand silently, the tension between them thickening. They’re caught between the tent door and Newt’s large empty bed. Newt clears his throat suddenly and Tina jumps, static running through her veins.

“I guess I’ll just,” She waves nervously, beginning to take a step backwards. Newt nods mutely, but as Tina begins to pull away he refuses to let go. She blinks up at him as he swallows nervously. 

“Stay,” Newt murmurs, so soft Tina almost doesn’t catch it, “please,”

Tina’s eyes widen, as her husband leans down kissing the ring that lies over her finger. Her heart spills over, and she knows there’s no choice in the matter. 

“Okay,” She breaths, smiling sweetly, her eyes beaming. 

“Great, good,” He smiles crookedly, equally affected, “I’ll just,” Newt gestures down at the mess of his shirt and Tina can only manage a squeak in reply. 

His mattress is softer than her own. She sits down gingerly on his blankets and removes her shoes slowly. Her bare feet and pale and trembling. Tina can hear soft rustling, the sound of fabric brushing over skin. She breathes in and out carefully through her nose, as she too takes off her coat and places it neatly on the matted floor. Tina slips quietly under the covers, hoping Newt doesn’t mind she took the left side. Her eyes are shut diligently. She knows if she opens them, she’ll most likely see a naked Newt. The thought simultaneously makes her wish to peek and hide her head in the bedsheets. Eventually though, Tina feels the mattress depress beside her, and she lets her eyes flutter open to see Newt getting carefully under the blankets, dressed in a new white night shirt. 

“I thought you were asleep,” He says, pulling up the covers much more enthusiastically. 

“No, I was just,” Tina begins. ‘Trying my best not to see you naked in case I do something stupid, like jump on you,’ her mind supplies helpfully. Newt settles down on his pillow, raising a knowing eyebrow as if he knows exactly what she was thinking. She’s so close she can almost count his freckles. 

“Hi,” she eventually says, tongue tied. Tina turns herself to her preferred sleeping position- her stomach. She’s even closer now, and Newt leans in to kiss her sweetly.

“Hi,” He says smiling, after they break away. Tina can’t help smiling back, hiding her red cheeks in his blankets. Their legs brush together and she realise with a jolt that- like her own- his are bare. He must be just in his shirt. Nothing else. 

‘Don’t be silly, Porpentina,’ She tells herself firmly, ‘you’re just in your nightgown, you’re without undergarments’   
‘Your dress is much longer than his damn shirt,’ Her more conservative side argues back hysterically. 

Newt’s hand softly tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You alright love?” He asks gently. Tina’s stomach does a flip-flop at the adoration. He’s said it once before, but under the influence and she’d convinced herself it meant nothing. Said now though, sober, when they're sharing the same bed. Her heart pounds as she presses her face to the sheets. 

“It’s just,” She exclaims into the mattress. Tina turns agitated, to face him again, and lets her fingers play with his sleeves. Newt hums a silent question, clearly waiting for her reply, his nose resting on her hairline. 

“It’s just you’re naked, under your clothes,” Tina blurts out accidentally, and Newt guffaws, his laughter bouncing out of his throat in waves. Tina buries her head in embarrassment into his shoulder. 

“Don’t laugh,” She grumbles, which only serves to make him laugh louder, “I’m being serious,” 

“I know you are, and I’m sorry,” He says sighing with mirth. Tina can almost see him wiping away tears, “But Tina, love, everyone is,” 

Tina sulks into his neck for a moment as he finishes chuckling. Which quickly turns into him kissing her throat. She sighs softly, truly unable to stay mad at him for long. He kisses her softly, till he reaches her mouth and gives her one final peck before pulling away. 

“I like you,” He mumbles sleepily, pulling her even closer. Tina rests her chin on his chest and shuts her eyes. 

“I’m your wife,” She murmurs, “you have to like me,” 

“Not necessarily,” Newt says simply, his lips moving over her forehead. He can’t seem to stop touching her. One warm hand is around her back, the other moves through her hair, across her forearm, down to her hip and then back up again, “And I like you, I care for you, very much Tina,”

Tina smiles into his chest joyfully, nesting firmly into his side. It’s the warmest she’s been in ages. Her room at home is too large to ever be properly warm, and her feet are always freezing. She twists their legs together, their skin sizzling under mountains of fur and wonders dimly why they have never done this before. 

“I care for you too Newt,” Tina whispers softly. Newt rumbles above her and Tina knows he can hear her, “And not because you’re my husband, but because you’re you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	10. Family time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sword fight and a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Hope everyone enjoys this chapter. It's really sweet- the whole family is hanging out together, and there's some cute Newtina stuff at the end, so yeah! Enjoy!

Court was much more pleasant than Tina remembered. Perhaps it was the fact that the older members of the resistance were off her back now that she had a shiny ring on her finger. Or maybe it was the large and luxurious room her and Newt had been given, with the extravagant tapestries and place in a tower with plenty of privacy. 

No… though Newt definitely had the majority blame for Tina’s incessant good humour. They went everywhere- as Queenie said teasingly- attached to the hip. Tina had only seen Hogwarts once and through blurry, wary eyes; it had been a one night stop over- on the way to Newt’s castle. All she remembers was the musty sheets, and her nervous tears as she struggled to sleep the night before her wedding. Her husband however knows every stone and staircase. He’d dragged her round everywhere. They’d spent hours exploring the library, finding armfuls of books that caught their fancy to add to their expanding collection. Newt had tugged her up every tower, shown her the hidden doors and passageways. Yesterday they’d spent the whole day frolicking in the forbidden forest, and Tina played eagerly with luminescent unicorns, Newt whispering vivid explanations in her ear.

Though perhaps due to their frequent disappearances they’d finally been cornered in sharing an afternoon with their siblings and their families.

Not, Tina considers one hand fanned up against the small but noticeable bump hidden by Leta’s skirts, that that was particularly a bad thing. 

“How many months is it now?” She asks her beaming sister-in-law wondrously. 

“Almost three,” Leta leans delightedly up against her husband’s arm, and Theseus smiles proudly down at her. 

“Absolutely incredible,” Newt raises his glass happily, as the two share a kiss. Tina pulls away, flushing a bit at their easy intimacy and sits back down next to Queenie who’s rolling her eyes. Jacob is smiling widely however, and her sister eventually smiles cheekily taking a sip of her wine. 

They’ve placed their little party in one of the castles many courtyards. The weather is slowly beginning to cool; the air is crisp but it’s still warm in the sun. Tina leans back in her chair watching the children romp. Jacob and Queenie have seven kids, Leta and Theseus have two; they scream and shriek playing at sword-fighting and generally getting up to no good. 

Newt’s arm is thrown round her back and she threads her fingers between his own, smiling peacefully. Tina smirks at little. She has no doubt, that any child of his will definitely be up to no good. The realisation hits her, like a hard slap and stupid grin begins to ornate her face. Their child. It would be their child. 

“Auntie Ti, Auntie Ti,” Tina smile grows wider as Teddy-Edward Kowalski- runs towards her, his tiny cheeks bright red with exertion. He drops his wooden sword on the floor with a clatter before leaping into her arms. Tina catches him with an oof, and his arm swing around her neck. 

“What’s up, heffalump?” Tina asks her nephew, leaning back to get a better look at him. His face is distorted in an ugly scowl. Teddy pushes his blonde mop away from his bright blue eyes with an important air. Tine bites down on her lip harshly in order not to grin. 

“It’s very serious,” Teddy informs her, stone faced and the sides of Tina’s cheeks twitch, “Albi won, and he cheated,” 

Tina peers over the top of the little boy’s head. Her eldest nephew Albert, a dashing young lad of seven with his mother’s eyes and father’s charm is currently pressing gentle kisses to the Scamander twins dainty hands, as they swoon and blush. Albert is quickly invited to sit between the two eight-year-old girls with dark shining hair and gorgeous caramel skin. He recalls his feats of 'daring do' as they giggle and bat their eyelashes. Teddy’s fists ball up angrily against her dress, as he too stares at his brother’s success. Tina can’t deny that being older had given Albert a good advantage, but she also has no doubt the teasing cheek of Isabella and sweet smiles of Katherine had something to do with his victory. She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“I believe you sweetling,” Tina promises him gently, “there will be more chances for you to win, don’t worry”

“But it’s not fair!” Teddy cries out loudly and shamelessly. Jacob slushes his son good naturedly, but the other children hear and begin to giggle nervously. Tina sees Albert smirk and whisper something in Isabella’s ear that makes her laugh out loud; a rude burst through her nose. 

“I’ll give you lessons Ted,” Theseus announces, smiling kindly at the lad. Tina imagines from the far off look in her brother-in-law eyes and Leta’s hand on his arm that he’s wanted a son to teach for a long time. But lessons would not teach Tina’s oldest nephew a thing or two about pride. 

“That sounds like an excellent idea Theseus,” Tina ruffles Teddy’s hair, putting him down with a smile. He stares up at her with large, teary, eyes. Tina winks at him. She stands with a swoop and bends down to pick up the wooden sword with a flourish. 

“In the meantime however,” Tina bows in Albert’s direction, “I challenge Albert Kowalski to a duel- with Teddy as my second,” Teddy beams up at her, and the children ‘oooh’ teasingly.

“Teenie,” Queenie berates her. But it’s too late; Albert has already jumped up, ready to challenge his honour. Tina wonders if he remembers that she was the one to give him his first sparing lesson. 

“You can’t possibly fight in that,” Leta says, playing nervously with her pearls that lie around her neck, one hand on her stomach. 

They’ve are dressed to the nines for some reason, and being back at court means Tina is unfortunately back in dresses. Her current outfit is green satin, with long flowing sleeves and bell-like skirt. It’s tight enough that Tina has to make sure her breaths are even. She stretches her arms up far above her head, feeling the seams snap deliciously. 

“Porpentina, I made that for you,” Queenie calls out cheekily. Tina pokes her tongue out childishly at her. 

“Are you a witch or not?” She calls back before her sister can return her rude sentiment, “surely you can perform a proper reparo charm,” Tina sighs happily, taking in her first proper breath in about four hours. 

“It’s still a dress,” Theseus states, raising a curt eyebrow, “I don’t fancy your chances sister,” 

“My Tina can fight well, in and out of a dress,” Newt pipes up smoothly. The double entendre has the grown-ups speechless. Her husband seems oblivious to their shock and strolls over to her carelessly, a proud quirk to his lips. Tina blushes as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering. 

“Win for me love,” Newt murmurs, his eyes sparkling, “Don’t get hurt,” Tina glances over at Albert, who’s flexing his non-existent muscles to his swooning cousins. 

“I don’t like my chances,” Tina replies tongue in cheek and Newt grins. 

“A final kiss then,” Her husband’s hands move round to play with the curls at the nape of her neck, “If it’s the last one we’re to ever have,” He sighs dramatically and Tina feels herself smile. 

“You’re an idiot,” She giggles, but gladly lets herself be pulled into his embrace. The wooden sword presses hard into Tina’s stomach, poking her rudely as they kiss. It must be annoying Newt too, but he only lets go when Teddy tugs at her skirts. 

“Kissing isn’t going to make us win, Aunty Ti,” He scowls. 

“Yeah, Aunty Ti,” Newt abashes her wickedly. Tina swats him in the head with the sword as he walks away chuckling. He actively ignores Theseus’s pointed look and Leta’s knowing smile to wink at her. Tina winks back, taking Teddy’s hand and walking over to where the kids have congregated. 

Tina twirls her sword easily between her fingertips as she meets her opponent. She towers over him like a blade of grass over an ant. She leans down slightly so that she’s actually able to meet Albert’s eye. 

“Do you want to do this?” Tina asks him pleasantly, but not smiling to show that she’s being serious. She can feel a dozen eyes watching their exchange curiously as fiercely as she can feel the sun. Albert must do too, as his mouth fixes itself into a firm, unshakable line.

“Yes,” Albert states proudly. One of the twins, Isabella, passes him her handkerchief and he ties it gentlemanly around the swords hilt. 

“Okay,” Tina shrugs, smiling gently. She tests the swords weight before holding it out in front of her. 

Albert comes at her, all showman ship and no sense. Such a façade probably scared off little Teddy who had only just begun to swing a sword. To Tina however, they were simple tricks she herself has used. 

Tina holds out a hand to Albert. But the boy brushes it aside harshly and stands without meeting her eyes. Tina considers him as he brushes down his pants self-consciously. She makes sure no to disarm him too quickly, but she’s barely out of breath when the sword and Albert hit the ground. Small arms encircle her leg, somehow over her cascade of skirt. Tina looks down to find Teddy beaming toothily up at her. She gives him a quick one sided hug before turning to her eldest nephew. 

Her hand comes up to cup his cheek. Albert tries to duck away, but Tina catches him, bending down to his level. His eyes linger somewhere near his toes, where his sword lies aimlessly. Tina places it into his hands again. Her nephew looks up hopefully. 

“Your balance is off, and your strikes are too quick,” Tina informs him gently, “But with hard work and training I am sure you will be brilliant,” Albert smiles tentatively, but Tina sets him straight with a hard look. 

“But don’t get cocky,” She warns him seriously, “confidence is always a good thing, but pride is dangerous in a fight,” Albert drops his gaze again, chastised. Tina runs her fingers through his hair. It’s the same colour as his fathers. Out of all of her sisters’ seven children, he’s the only one not to show signs of magical ability. 

“Do you understand me Albert?” Tina asks him softly. 

“Yes, Aunty Tina,” Albert mumbles tonelessly. Tina settles down firmly on her knees. She holds her hand out in a fist in front of her, and Tina feels her magic swell. Albert still stares at his shoes. 

“Hey,” She whispers kindly. Albert looks up. His eyes study her hand curiously. Tina opens her palm. A tiny dragon roars up at him, it’s tiny fangs gleaming. Albert gasps in wonder as it flies around his head. The other children clap and scream with glee as it shoots out small burst of bright blue flame at them all before disappearing with pop. Margaery, a young but hefty girl of three plops down on Tina’s skirts. She takes her thumb out of her mouth, a rare occurrence, and stares up at her Aunty, her blonde head bobbing. 

“Can you teach me how to do that, Aunty Ti?” Margaery asks, her eyes as wide as baubles. 

“Me too!” Isabella Scamander asks quickly, also falling to Tina’s feet. She curls her hand up tightly as if that was all it took. Her brown eyes look almost disappointed when there’s no beast there when she opens them again. 

“Can you teach me how to fight?” Her twin asks nervously, looking at the sword in Albert’s grip with avid fascination. Tina hears Leta gasp a sharp negative, but she smiles at Katherine in any case. 

“If you want,” Tina agrees softly, and the little girl beams, bouncing up an down on the spot, “but only if your parents permit it,” 

The nine children scramble around her like birds, chattering so fast she can hardly descriptor their demands. Tina tries to stand, but their weight on her dress prevents her from doing so and she falls down laughing hysterically. They collapse on top of her and tug at her relentlessly, until Jacob eventually comes to save her.

Tina’s smile stays stuck on her face throughout their dinner, feeding the creatures and long into the night. She brushes her hair out almost joyfully, tugging enthusiastically at the end of the strands, numb to the pain in her scalp. Tina can see Newt watching her in the mirror. 

They’ve shared a bed ever since that fateful night a week ago. Nothing untoward, just sleep, although Tina has awoken many times in the night to find something hard pressing up against her bottom. But the thing between them is new, no matter how long it’s been growing and they still find themselves dancing around each other. No matter how many times Tina has awoken wet and aching she has arisen as if nothing is wrong. Something is wrong though; with her forbearance. Every day their touches become more heated, more frequent; more everything. She doesn’t know how much longer she can take it. Tina watches through hooded eyes as Newt stretches, raising his arms high over his head. His night shirt hikes up around his thighs. She bites her lip. Mercy Lewis, does Tina want her husband. And if she has any judgement at all, she believes Newt wants her too. 

He still hasn’t take his eyes off her. 

“What?” Tina asks softly, putting her brush down. He shakes his head, saying nothing. Newt gaze isn't as tender as it often is. Instead he looks almost unhappy. Concerned, Tina stands from her dressing table and lays down on their bed- her head near his hand. She takes it firmly. 

“What’s wrong?” Tina asks Newt worriedly. He smiles down at her; but it’s strained as doesn’t meet his eyes. She kisses the back of his hand, “Please tell me Newt,” 

“You love children, don’t you Tina,” Newt says quietly. It’s less of a question, more of a statement. 

“Yes, of course I-“ Tina begins bemusedly. She halts as Newt turns away from her, his face screwed up in pain. 

“Are you… are you upset?” Newt asks somberly, his fingers cold in her own, “You came alive with the little ones, surely you would be happier…”

Tina quickly sits up and takes his head in her hands, her fingers caressing his cheeks. Newt’s eyes are bright with tears when he finally looks at her again. Tina shakes her head brokenly, sharing his distress.

“What are you talking about Newt?” She asks him desperately. Newt’s hands make their way to her waist. His fingers stroke her skin beneath her small clothes. Tina’s stomach clenches at his touch. 

“You could’ve been four- almost five months gone by now,” Newt’s jaw wobble in regret, “I could’ve given you…I am sorry Tina,” His chin falls numbly against his chest. 

“Oh Newt,” Tina whispers, pulling him tight against her. He lets out a sob and nestles into her neck, “shh,” Tina runs her fingers lovingly through his hair as he cries. Tears prick at her own eyes, but she stubbornly blinks them away. She leans back when his grief is over and takes him firmly by the shoulders. 

“Newton Scamander, you listen to me,” Tina tells him fiercely, “We have our whole lives to have children, a whole brood if we wish,” Newt laughs wetly and it lightens her heart to hear it. He nudges her lips with his own. 

“I should like that,” Newt murmurs, and Tina smiles into his kiss. ‘He’ll make such an excellent father,’ She thinks tenderly. 

“We weren’t ready five months ago, on our wedding night,” Tina pronounces quietly, settling herself against his chest, “We will wait till we are ready,” She closes her eyes as his fingers trail down her neck. 

“When will we be ready?” Newt asks her quietly, as he falls into his familiar nightly ritual of playing with her hair.

“I don’t know,” Tina whispers into his shirt. 

‘But I think perhaps, soon,’ She thinks to herself quietly. Newt nods at her, his eyes twinkling and she knows he’s thinking so too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	11. The annoucement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina makes an annoucement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Next chapter up, and it has some drama. Hope everyone enjoys!

“To Lord Newton and Lady Porpentina!” The cry goes up. 

The court cheers deafen Tina’s ears, as hundreds of glasses are raised to them. They have been placed high up, on a sort of platform, where their siblings would usually sit.   
What they’ve been seated on, are almost thrones, old ancient things, made of dark wood that twist above them. Newt’s hand is sweaty in her own, and his eyes are fixated at an unknown bolt in the walls above the crowd, his mouth a wan crooked line. Tina quickly raises herself out of her chair, and her golden dress sways around her. It’s Newt’s favourite colour. She wore it for him. 

“My husband and I thank you,” Tina pronounces loudly, forcing her nerves away to make her voice firm and strong, “for your warm welcome and your generosity,” She gestures round at the hearty food that fills the tables, and the lutes that play a lilting tune by invisible fingers. 

Curious faces stare up at her; they are either friendly or suspicious. Friend or foe. Every one of them would turn one way or the other with the roll of a dice. The only truly joyful faces are those of her family. Tina’s nieces and nephews wave up at her with chubby fingers, gold crowns lying in their hair. She smiles. For some reason Tina feels the court smile with her. 

May we be as happy and merry,” Tina calls out, her grin growing wider, “as we are united!” 

“Huzzah! Lady Scamander!” The congregation calls back, banging their glasses and stamping their feet. Tina can see Queenies smile, twinkling brighter than a star. Newt stands, his chair scratching harshly on the floor boards. 

“My wife,” He pronounces to the court, but his eyes are all for her. Tina’s smile grows softer as she turns to him, his hand soft on her cheek. They kiss, and the crowd cheers for the third time.

Newt kisses her as if they’re alone, in their bedroom or in his case. Tina’s cheeks flame, but she sighs into it anyway, doing her best to ignore the hearty wolf whistles.   
They break apart, blinking stupidly at each other. The silver circlet that sits on Newt’s head has been knock askew by her efforts. Tina reaches up, giggling, to realign it, one hand to her own hair to make sure hers is still in place. 

The invisible hands on the instruments strike up a another tune, a joyful waltz and dozens of couples spill onto the floor. All the tables have been pushed backwards to the walls, allowing peckish witches and wizards to graze as they please. The cavernous space left in the middle allows for dances to roam free. Among them are Leta and Theseus, who spin round enthusiastically, completely wrapped up in each other. Jacob is helping the children with getting their choice pieces of meat or sweets. Queenie, strangely, is nowhere to be found. 

Tina strains her neck, peering round the ballroom. She still can’t see her sister. Strong arms twist around her midline, soft lips press into her nape. 

“I love this colour on you,” Newt mumbles, playing with her collar line with shifty fingers. 

“Do you now?” Tina smirks, turning her head to meet her mischievous husband’s eyes. He quirks his lips up at her, hugging her close to him.

“I do,” Newt replies chuckling. Tina leans back into him. Heating spells have been cast, but winter is coming and her arms are mostly bare. Snuggling into Newt chest, Tina shuts her eyes. She’d rather stay up here, in his arms, than down stairs conversing with nosy strangers. But rules must be obeyed. 

“Come on,” Tina says ruefully, “we’d better do our duty,” She turns to pull away. But Newt holds on tight. 

“Duty be damned,” Newt says cheerfully, taking her by the arm, “I want to find somewhere quiet to kiss my wife in private,” Tina glares at him as he leads her down the stairs. People curtsey and bow at them as they pass. Newt barely gives them a nod.

“Newt,” Tina warns, glancing nervously at the odd looks they’re getting as they rush by everyone who wishes to speak to them, “we have to talk to some people,”

“Do we?” Newt murmurs dismissively, still hastily pulling her along. Tina rolls her eyes, dragging her heels into the floorboards. Her husband turns to look back at her, in almost confused manner. She cocks an unamused eyebrow. 

“Yes,” Tina states firmly, popping out her hip. Newt pouts adorably, scrunching up his nose in distaste. 

"But I wanna kiss," He pushes himself up on his toes, looming over her, waggling his eyebrows invitingly. Tina feels herself smile despite herself, though she tries to keep up the facade. 

"Newton," She groans, bouncing up and down uneasily, feeling the courts eyes boring into their backs. 

"I don't like talking much," Newt winces, his shoulders drooping dolefully. Tina nods understandingly, playing gently with his fringe. 

"I don't like it either," She admits softly, searching her mind for a solution. Her eyes flit to the dancing couples, and she bites her lip eagerly. Tina has always loved dancing. 

"Look, if we get some wine, dance till it kicks in," Tina cups Newt's cheeks, grinning hopefully, "then we can talk, only for a little, before escaping to the case," Newt looks up, equally buoyantly. 

"Really?" He hums quietly, smiling happily. 

"Uh huh," Tina nods enticingly, "and we can kiss, while we dance, if we want to," That seems to settle it for her husband, and he lets out a relieved sigh. He presses her hand warmly, and he expression in his eyes lets Tina know there's probably going to be more kissing than dancing. 

“I’ll be right back,” Newt pecks her sweetly on the cheek. Tina beams, looking down at her toes. His hand falls through her fingertips. 

Still smiling, she presses one hand to the place where her skin burns from his touch, before looking round for a place to sit. Newt had brought them to the back of the hall, and as people are generally either eating or dancing, this part is generally deserted; If not for bunches of giggling children and a few older couples. 

Tina goes for a seat near a rather large drape. Newt will look for her, but otherwise she doesn’t particularly want to be found. She said ‘we’ have to talk to some people, not ‘I’. Tina will talk and dance, but only with Newt’s hand in hers. She presses herself comfortably up against the wall, and waits patiently, obscured from curious eyes by the curtain. 

Tina fingers play with the dark threaded fabric; counting the patterns, colours and jingling her leg where it lies across her knee. Five minutes pass, another five, then one more. Newt must have gotten lost. Or more likely cornered by some nobleman or other. Tina’s limbs itch. Should she try to find him? Or would that just make things even more confusing when he came looking. 

Her decision seems to be made for her as three laughing men flop down in front of her curtain, obscuring her path. Tina awkwardly tries to bend round her hiding place. But it’s useless. Whatever way she turns, if she doesn’t run into their chairs, she’ll at least trip over their feet. Tina’s trapped, unless she wants to reveal herself to be listening in on their conversation. 

“Are you sure?” One laughs breathlessly. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Another voice replies good naturally, “She is pregnant, my wife is pregnant!” 

Loud claps ring out; palms slap on knees. Tina smiles for the awaiting father. Their court must be blessed. 

“Lady Queenie is happy then?” The third man asks jovially. Part of her sister’s posse then. Tina wonders who. But she’s better at faces than she is at names, and her time in exile has destroyed whose voice is whose. 

“Very happy,” The father says, his voice suddenly sombre, “Now there’s a fight for the ‘Scamander baby,’” Tina’s smile turns down at the edges. Scamander baby. Leta’s child- it must be. She swallows, her dried out throat itching nervously, placing a hand on her flat stomach. But why must there be a fight? A fight for what? 

“Are you sure the Lady Porpentina is not pregnant,” Someone nervously pipes up, “She and Lord Newton certainly looked… amorous tonight,” 

‘You’re more certain than I am,’ Tina thinks, slightly hysterically. Mercy lewis, she doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing. Three strange men talking about her sex life, or three strange men assuming that she has one. 

“I doubt it!” One waves their suspicions away carelessly, “No bedding, months away from court, have you seen how thin the lady’s waist is?” 

“Even if they have, it can’t be her fault,” Their voices are now so low, Tina has to lean in to hear them. Almost against her will, she does so. She knows she’s not going to like what she hears. 

“Look at how many children, Lady Queenie has!” They whisper together conspiratorially, “If there’s a problem, then it’s with her ‘beast man’ of a husband,” Tina's jaw drops open. A deep spike of rage begins to throb behind her eyes. 

“Yes, yes, he’s probably spent himself out in his woods too many times to be bothered with his wife,” One of them chuckles pathetically. 

“He wouldn’t keep his ‘friends’ in the woods, he’d keep them in his bedroom!” Another sniggers cruelly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if any child of theirs came out with claws and a tail,” 

“They’re probably just barren,” The last one says dully, “wouldn’t that be ironic? Just like our bloody cause,”

“If that ain’t the truth,” They all laugh together. Tina can hear the faint clink of their glasses. It’s faint because all she can hear is the blood in her hears and her pounding heart-beat. 

How dare they. How dare they! Newt could give her a dozen children. They just haven’t tried yet. Her husband is a better man than they will ever be. Saving creatures, looking after them at the expense of his own health at times. Newt is the most caring, kind, passionate…damn them, damn them, damn them. Does the rest of the court think this way about them? About Newt? Tina’s hands are vibrating uncontrollably. She can’t have it. She won’t.

Tina sets her feet down with a loud thud. The men stop laughing. One begins to exclaim, but she pulls the curtain roughly aside before they have a chance to finish their sentence. Tina stands over them with a glare that would cut most men in half. They cower as Tina sweeps past them, her heels knocking on the ground.

“My lady,” One of them tries, but to no avail. Tina cannot even speak. Her tongue has frozen in anguish. She holds up a dismissive hand, not even turning to meet them. Tina marches through the ballroom her sight fuzzy with fury. She knocks into people and things trembling, her blind aim being the stage. Someone grabs her hand. But it’s the wrong one- smooth and silky instead of hard and callused. Tina shakes herself out of their grip. 

“Teenie,” Her sister calls. 

Tina climbs the steps. One after the other, her limbs thick and heavy. The people move like ants below her. Tina sees Leta and Theseus embracing each other on the dance floor. Newt chatting with a red faced Jacob, two cups of wine sat carefully in his hands. Queenie lingers by the foot of the stairs, her eyes wide, her mouth grim. She shakes her head. Tina turns away. 

“I have an announcement,” She proclaims, her voice rough with emotion. A few people near the edge of the stage turn to stare, but the music is too loud, the crowd to merry and most do not hear. Tina rips her wand from her robes and points it at her throat. 

‘Sonorus’ She whispers, and her vocal cords tingle. 

“Oi!” Tina shouts, and her voice vibrates around the chamber. Hundreds of eyes turn to her, blinking up in confusion. 

“I have an announcement,” Tina repeats tremendously, placing one hand to her stomach. The other bunches the fabric tightly around her waist, making sure whatever bump she has sticks out as firmly as possible, “I am with child,”

The room erupts into cheers. Tina is deaf to them all. All she can see is two glasses lying smashed on the ground and a steady stream of wine running across Newt’s shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	12. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's reaction to Tina's 'news' and what comes after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> I've never been more scared about posting a chapter in my life. I have never written anything like this- ever. And it may be terrible! Hopefully it's not, but as always let me know what you think and hopefully you enjoy!

Tina marches round the room until she’s dizzy. She pulls desperately at the binds of her corset, pinching her fingers in her haste. Eventually it falls free, and her under-skirts swing loose around her hips. Around her slim hips. Around her flat stomach. Tina pulls at her hair to the point of pain, wincing in mad satisfaction. 

“Mercy Lewis,” She breaths, her words coming thick and fast. Thank god she had been well fed and rested during their marriage or she’s not how she would’ve managed it. The slight pushing out of her stomach. 

But a full belly is not the same as a pregnancy. A bread roll is not the same as a baby.

Queenie buzzes, the sound bright and happy on the bedside table. Tina stares at it for a moment. Then she grabs it, conquers up a bedsheet, wrapping the mirror in its warmth. She takes great care not to look into its depths. Her fingers tremble, but still she stashes it away, in the top most ledge of the wardrobe. High up, out of sight, under one of Newt’s waist coats. Tina shuts the closets door just in time. 

The bed room door opens to reveal Newt himself; his hands clamped tightly, his knuckles white. His face is flushed and his eyes are wide and wild. They take in her undressed state slowly, and Tina also feels her face begin to heat. She’s more dressed than their wedding night. But now they’re no longer strangers. Newt’s eyes are dark where they linger on her bare legs and shoulders. He slams the door with a force that makes Tina jump and bite her lip. If in shame or something else, she is not sure. But in any case her heart patters tremendously against her chest

“Newt,” She begins her voice a soft squeak. If she was casting a spell, her words would barely light a candle.

“I was caught up in my brother’s chambers,” Newt says gruffly, his gaze firmly directed to the floor, “He wanted to discuss ‘preparations’” 

His hands rip open his robes so fiercely the buttons scatter on the floorboards. Each soft ping, rattles Tina’s nerves, as if they were the hard metal clangs of swords clashing together. 

“For the baby,” He spits the last word, as if it were made of poison. Tina realises with a jolt that he’s angry. 

‘Oh god,’ She thinks with a small sob, ‘I’ve ruined everything,’. Everything they built. Everything they shared. All gone because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Tina sighs, her hair falling around her face in defeat. ‘Like always,’ she thinks numbly.

Newt balls up his clothes and throws them on the chair roughly. They land with an ugly thud. He’s left himself in only his pants and white under shirt. Newt pulls at the shirts draw strings anxiously. Tina, feeling his distress, takes a step towards him. Newt take a hurried step back. She stops, abashed, her hands still out stretched, aching to comfort him. 

“I have one question, only one,” He says stiffly, keeping the cold distance between them. Though she can’t help but notice the slight tremble in his hands, “And I would like an answer, for the sake of our marriage if nothing else,” 

“Of course,” Tina replies softly, unable to keep the tears out of her voice. For the sake of our marriage? Not friendship? Not trust? Not…anything else? She must have been truly blind, her loneliness finally catching up to her. Creating something, where nothing was even there. 

“Who was it?” Newt asks quickly. His eyes are round and red. Tina stares at him, shock coursing through her veins. She stretches her fingers on her shirt. Then her vocal cords. 

“What?” Tina croaks, her voice breaking past her suddenly dry lips. 

“That you-,” Newt swallows tightly, his own lips pressed into a firm line. He’s clearly unable to say the words, and chooses instead another route, “the father. Of your child,” 

He might have well have slapped her. She almost staggers back with the force of his words. 

“I’m not with child,” Tina speaks quietly, but still undoubtedly begging him to believe her. 

But Newt turns away from her avid gaze, wringing his hands pitifully. ‘It’s not anger he’s feeling,’ Tina realises with a confusing mix of distress and hope, ‘it’s fear’. 

“I would never curse you for it,” He mumbles, hanging his head, his fringe flopping sadly over his forehead, “Our marriage is political, and not even proper in the sight of god. It wouldn’t be strange-“

“Newt, look at me!” Tina shouts, finally to success. Newt looks up, his stammering halted. Caught in some strange madness, she takes her shirt’s hem between her fingers and yanks the fabric hard over her head. Immediately Newt averts his gaze, but Tina grits her teeth and shouts again, “Look, damn you,” 

He does; and his green eyes widen in shock as they take in her thin frame. Tina reaches out and grasps his hand, pressing it to her stomach. They both breath as his palm touches her bare skin. Newt’s thumb brushes over her bump-less belly. Tina watches as his face collapses in regret before his nose falls, defeated, against her bare neck.

“Merlin Tina,” He cries, his hot grip like iron on her skin, “I am sorry, so so sorry,”   
She doesn’t bother replying. Tina’s hand crawls up to his hair as he sobs, her fingers moving softly through his curls. They stay like that for a while, his tears seeping down her collarbone. Eventually Newt pulls away, wiping his shining face with the back of his hand. Tina discreetly crosses her arms over her naked chest; goose bumps erupting over her skin at the loss of his warmth. 

“Why in bloody merlin did you say it then?” Newt sniffs softly, “Say you were pregnant?” Tina looks up from her shivering and bites her lip. His nose is a bright cherry red and his hair is ragged from where she was pulling at it. He’s so beautiful. Just him standing there in the soft candlelight is almost enough to make Tina cry too. He’s so beautiful, and wonderful and kind. 

“They made fun of you, some men, I overheard them after you left,” Tina speaks like she has a boiled lolly stuck in her throat. Newt smiles toothlessly, and bobs his head in acquiesce.

“They always have done,” He sighs tiredly, full of resignation, “Tina, it’s alright,” 

“It’s not alright!” Tina spits angrily. Newt looks up at her, his eyes shining with something she cannot name. 

“They said any child of yours would be deformed, with claws and a tail,” She throws up her hands in fury, too injustice filled to be embarrassed by her upper-halves nakedness. Tina begins to stomp around the room again. She feels Newt’s gaze on her as she moves- buzzes of electricity bounce down her nerve endings. 

“Or worse,” Tina begins again, now slightly hysterically, “that you are infertile, that we both are, that we are as barren as our siblings cause,” 

She hops up angrily onto their enormous bed, her fingers curling tightly around the mattresses edge. She can’t be making a pretty picture. Tears sting at her eyes, and her face is screwed up in rage. That is not what a lady should do. Newt walks towards her, so close her bare feet bump against his calves. He doesn’t speak. Tina takes a deep breath. 

“I couldn’t have you shamed in such a way,” She says brokenly, “our child shamed in such a way, I just couldn’t, I am sorry” 

Newt doesn’t answer for a moment. Tina watches mutely as his thighs slide together in uncertainty. 

“My brother and sister,” He eventually begins, the words clearly painful to his lips, “wanted that ‘disastrous’ possibility eliminated as well,” Tina looks up to where Newt looms above her. His face is hard, and his eyes flash with a rage she didn’t know he possessed. He speaks to their back wall with barely restrained fury. 

“Theseus has been asking me to 'have' you since we were married,” He speaks matter-of-factly for such a horrendous subject, “Not force myself on you, you understand, but he made it clear there was no choice in the matter,” Tina shuts her eyes and tries not to think of what would’ve happened, if she hadn’t gotten promised to such a good man. 

“They want to make sure,” Newt speaks less to her and more to herself, his voice painted in furious disbelief, “Make sure you're fertile so our union will be ‘worth’ something,” Tina takes a deep breath, and attempts to steady her feelings. 

“Right, well,” She mumbles, trying for calm, but coming off shrill, “We've respected each others wishes, I know you wouldn’t have…I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry,” 

Newt lets out a heart wrenching sob, a drops to the floor before her. He settles himself firmly between her knees, but steadfastly looks her in the eyes, his gaze never straying lower. An unnamed emotion swells up in her throat, halting her breath. 

“That is not the point Tina,” He says fiercely, his green eyes flashing gold, “and you know it,” 

“I know it,” Tina repeats simply, inclining her head. Newt nods as well, happy with her admission. His stubble scratches on her bare thighs as he does so. Tina lets out an involuntarily hiss. Newt’s hand curls itself around her ankle. They sit together for a while. His eyes a shut, giving her some sort of privacy Tina supposes. She should wrap something around her, her naked skin cold and exposed in the night air. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to. 

“What are we going to do, Tina?” Newt breaks the silence, his face thin and tired. 

“What do you want to do?” Tina asks him tremendously, hoping desperately he catches the double meaning behind her words. Newt looks up. She clenches her jaw tightly, as for the first time her husband runs his eyes over her naked form. Tina swallows as his eyes darken, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

“The night before of our wedding, the night we met, something was expected of us,” Newt speaks, his voice a nervous crackle, “We didn’t…that night, and I think it was the right thing to do- then,” 

“But it’s not the night of our wedding, now it’s been many moons, and Tina,” Newt kisses her knee gently, “Oh merlin, my Tina, I would very much like,” His mouth twists uncertainly round the words. Tina smiles weakly while, nodding encouragingly. 

“Like to… make love to me?” She asks helpfully, her voice nervous and thin. Newt nods back, a happy smile spread out on his face. 

“Yes, that would be very nice,” He raises himself up to a standing position. He beds so large he's a little taller than her, and he has to bend down to kiss her sweetly, “If that’s okay?” He asks tentatively, his eyes shining like stars. 

“That’s more than okay!” Tina gasps happily and Newt grins, before with clear delight, moulding himself to her body. His fingers caress her bare back gently, and Tina shivers as they twinkle down her spine. She attempts, unsuccessfully to undo his shirt buttons. Newt chuckles into his mouth and she lets out a whine of frustration, pulling at the fabric angrily. Tina finally manages twist free a few and his collar falls open.

Newt steps back a little. His lips are red and rosy, as he sheds himself of his shirt; pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. Tina gulps at the sight. What seems to be hundreds of scars lie, mottled and deep, a mismatch sort of tapestry all over his skin. Her hand blankly leans out to touch, brushing the broken skin with the back of her knuckles. Newt inhales sharply at her curious exploration, his rather toned stomach moving violently inwards. His eyes flutter as searches carefully, her hands running over his firm shoulders. 

“How?” She asks breathlessly, her eyes roaming avidly. There’s one large curt scab curling around his belly buttons. It disappears down this left side, for god knows how long, disappearing down his trousers. 

Newt shrugs simply, turning his chin abruptly away. 

“Too many stories for a single night, I’m afraid,” He replies shortly, leaning in to kiss her again. Tina leans back, quirking up an eyebrow. 

“Is this what you didn’t want me to see the that night?” Tina asks him softly, her fingers dancing down his arm to entwine their fingers together, “our first night together?” Newt twists his body uncomfortably, from side to side. 

“Yes,” He mutters dutifully, “they’re rather ugly, I know that, I didn’t think you’d want to see,” Newt presses his fingers, hard, against her hip bones. He strokes her bare skin with a reverence, as though her pale, unblemished skin was gold to his ripped and freckled one. There’s a large ruddy burn on the length of his shoulder. Tina leans up, and caresses it with her mouth. 

“Tina,” Newt gasps headily, as she suckles gently. She breaths with a rush through her nose, as his grip round her waist tightens, almost to the point of pain. 

“I want to hear every single one, every single story” She tells him seriously, and Newt’s heart flutters as she travels down his chest. There’s a splattering of small holes on his breast. She dips her tongue in them gently. Newt’s hands are pressing up her ribs, almost bunching up her skin. His thumbs gently circle her nipples, and they jolt immediately to attention. Tina’s lips fall off his skin as she whimpers. She stares up at him. Newt stares down at her darkly, his sight on the place where his hands hold her breasts firmly in his palms. He squeezes one, studiously, and Tina’s moan is captured by his lips. She becomes a putty in his clever hands. Tina whines, pulling him closer, hooking her legs around his hips. 

“That’s it,” He mumbles, his voice sounding red and ragged, “hmm,” Newt ruminates for a moment, until he bobs down to take her nipple in his mouth. 

“Mercy Lewis, Newt,” Tina cries out, squirming in his grip wanting to share his skin. He grins, his teeth pinching her slightly before letting her go with a wet pop. Newt’s arms come round her back, squeezing tightly, as she dazedly pecks at his jaw line. 

“Just as perfect as I imagined,” Newt murmurs, pressing tight up against her. Tina can feel his hardness pressing up against her inner thigh. She nips at his neck, hard enough to leave a bruise and he lets out a moan, rutting against her. His eyes widen in embarrassment. Tina smiles softly, before pressing down hard at the small of his back with her heels, grinding back into him tentatively. They both let out a low moan as they brush together. They kiss again, a wild, sensual thing. Newt has her lip between his teeth, as they press repeatedly against each other, like teenagers afraid of being caught. 

“Newt,” Tina bites out, her fingers running carefully over the scar that ducks under his trousers; skimming first on the outside, then on the inside on the wound as Newt hisses. She takes a deep breath. Then Tina hooks her fingers underneath his pants.

“Wait, wait, Tina,” Newt wraps his hands, firmly around her wrists. She can feel his hands throbbing with tension. Tina stops, her breaths coming out in small, short pants. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, cocking her head in confusion. There’s a thin line of green left in Newt’s eyes- all that is left of his self-control. 

“Do you really want it to happen like this Tina? Our first time together?” Newt asks faintly, his hair is damp with sweat, “Shouldn’t it be slow, romantic… I don’t want you to feel like you’re being ravaged” He bobs his head. Tina gulps, her heart pounding at his words. Her thighs involuntarily clench at the thought, pressing him closer. Newt jumps. She looks deep into his eyes, making sure not to look away. 

“What if I want to be,” Tina murmurs quietly. Her fingers are still pressed between his trousers and his skin. She strokes his hip bones gently, and Newt chokes wetly as one hand accidentally brushes against something warm and hard, “Ravaged?” She finishes, biting her lip. Newt inclines his head, his eyes shut tight. 

“Merlin Tina,” He says gruffly, his hands drop to from her wrists to her thighs. They bunch themselves under her short underskirt. Tina tugs it off her irritatedly, leaving herself completely bare. Newt nods his head in agreement at her actions.

“You are going to be the death of me,” He announces darkly, Tina stutters as his fingers fall dangerously close to where she’s currently throbbing. 

“Please,” She whines brokenly, tugging at his trousers. Newt opens his eyes, and they flash down at her dangerously. One finger dips into her gently, and Tina keens as he curiously explores her. 

“So perfect, so beautiful,” Newt breaths in her ear, his voice wobbling with emotion when he brushes a certain spot that makes her cries out hopelessly. 

“You’re so wet,” Newt exclaims, wide eyed and wondrous, “For me, this is because of me,” A proud lilt has entered his voice, and without warning he adds another finger. Tina opens her mouth, but nothing comes out; her tongue frozen in place. She rocks against him, speechless, trying desperately to find friction. Newt keeps a incredibly slow rhythm however, teasing out her pleasure. He’s learning her, like he would a plant or a creature. Absorbing what she likes, and performing it over and over until Tina is a trembling mess. His firm hand, that he’s snapped around her back is the only thing keeping her from melting back into the mattress. Her hand juts harshly out, wanting to give him the same pleasure. She wraps her fingers around him, and Newt lets out a grunt, pulsing in her hand. Tina smiles, giving him a small stroke, and his fingers slide out and back into her sharply, making her gasp. 

“Is that good?” She asks him knowingly. Newt nods stupidly, his cheeks reddish, his lips parted as he pants. Tina nods back, and continues her exploration. He’s long- at   
least he seems to be so, she has nothing to compare it by- and slightly curved. Newt’s eyes have glazed over, and she beams cheekily at the realization that he’s stopped pleasing her, clearly lost in his own pleasure. 

“Stop, stop,” Newt finally spits out, “or this will be over before it’s even begun,” Tina acquiesces quietly, her heart pounding against her chest. It’s as loud as a drum in her ears, as Newt takes himself in hand before staring deep into her eyes. 

“Do you want to do this?” He asks her tenderly. Tina smiles at his care, and cups his cheek with one hand. 

“Yes,” She says simply, truthfully. Newt smiles shakily, turning his head to kiss her palm. Then he lines them up, before pushing into her slowly, inch by inch. Tina’s jaw drops at the pressure; much more than anything she’s managed to achieve by herself. 

“Are you alright?” He asks nervously, as she grits her teeth at the slight pain. 

“Yes, yes,” Tina reassures him softly, “Just give me a minute,” 

“Anything you need,” Newt replies candidly, as she waits patiently till her body adjusts to him. Seconds tick by, and the pain slowly ebbs away leaving only pleasure. She rocks against him lightly, letting him know she's ready. Newt doesn't move however. Tina cocks her head at the uncertain expression on his face. He notices her curiosity, and sighs, 

“Tina,” Newt murmurs quietly, leaning his forehead against her own, “Please tell me, before we do this, is this…is this for us?” Tina swallows sharply. She knows exactly what he’s talking about.

Would they be doing this if it wasn’t for her recent announcement? Would they be in this position right now if it weren’t for the courts expectation of her ‘condition?’ Tina taps her tongue against her teeth, the honest truth running over her like a hot balm. 

Because yes, yes she believes they would. It would’ve taken a bit longer perhaps, but god not too much longer. Too much wine at dinner, an accidental walk in when one of them was bathing, a long night in the case that led to a snogging session that fell into something more. Yes, Tina has no doubt this would’ve happened. Because, why wouldn’t it have? She wants to make love to him; every day if she possibly can. The court could go to hell. This moment is theirs; theirs and no one else’s. 

“I want you, so very much Newt,” Tina announces tearfully, “I want you, I want your child, our child,” Newt’s eyes are also shinning, and he nods seriously. His palm presses firmly to her abdomen. ‘Our child,’ He mouths worshipfully, and Tina beams. 

“I’ll want you tomorrow, and the next day,” She blathers, feeling drunk on the happiness of his moment, “for as long as you’ll have me,” 

“I’ll want you forever,” Newt kisses her sweetly, his eyes are tender and full of love. She knows they reflect her own. “because I…I,” He trails off, flushing red. Tina’s heart stutters. Does he? Does he really feel the same? 

“I know,” Tina says brokenly, her eyes blinking furiously, “I do too,” Newt smiles crookedly, bundling herself to him. Tina threads her fingers gently through his hair, humming softly, contented. 

“Ready?” Newt whispers lovingly into her neck, and she nods simply. She’s never been more ready for anything in her life. His hips slowly begin to roll. Tina gasps as he moves out of her, then back in. Newt’s trembling with the effort, and she pets his hair blindly, mumbling nothings about how good he feels, how right. He kisses her messily, full of teeth and tongue. 

“Yes, Tina,” Newt gasps, as she moves clumsily to meet his thrusts. 

“God,” Tina moans, her finger nails rake down Newt’s spine. Newt growls in agreement, snapping his hips sharply. Something curls tight in her belly, and Tina muffles her whine in his neck. Newt does it again, and she cries out. 

“Please,” She murmurs, everything feels alight, and her nerves are on fire. 

“Let go for me love,” Newt orders gently. His eyes brilliant implores her, and Tina nods with slight desperation, one hand dropping down to help herself as he pushes into her. His hips stutter when he notices what she’s doing. 

“Fuck,” The profanity spills roughly from his lips, and he watches her through hooded eyes as Tina rubs herself. Newt bobs his head down and lavishes her breast again. Tina lets out a shout, as she finally falls over the edge. She shudders round him, and Newt finishes with a shout, calling out her name unabashedly. 

They pause for a moment, panting. Their bodies are sated, but their minds race to catch up with recent events. Tina slowly unwinds her legs from his waist, and they scream at her, stiff from so long from being held to attention. Newt’s forehead rests against her bare shoulder, and Tina hums as he peppers her neck with sweet kisses, before pulling out of her gently. 

“Are you alright love?” He asks quietly. Tina can feel him jittering, his pulse still running hard. She sucks in a breath and nods silently. 

She still can’t quite believe it. Tina’s face is caught between frozen shock and insane joy. First times weren’t supposed to be like that. They were supposed to be slow, gentle, and a little awkward. Newt’s shirt lays disgruntled on the floor, her nightshirt also lies shed like a forgotten snake skin. Her hair is stuck to her back with her sweat, and is a knotty mess when Tina peels it off to nervously thread her fingers through it. The place between her legs burns.

“Are you sure?” Newt presses her again, almost brokenly. His touch is soft now, overly so, tentative even. ‘He’s afraid he’s hurt me,’ Tina blinks up into his golden eyes. Now it’s her turn to lean in, pressing a light kiss to his nose. Newt smiles at her then, and she returns it shakily. 

“You are magnificent,” Newt brings up her hand for his lips to caress, before turning away, pulling his pants fully down and pushing them down his legs. 

Tina rambles back over the mattress until her head meets the headboard. She pushes her destroyed skirt to the floor with her toes. They’ve made a mess of the sheets and her shuffling backwards has not helped. Blushing, Tina pings them clean with a quick flick of her wand and they’re suddenly dry and unwrinkled. She squeezes her thighs together, as she places her wand back safety on her bedsides table. Magic cannot get rid of everything. She can still feel him inside of her. Tina presses a trembling hand to her stomach. It’s as firm and lean as it’s always been. But now will it stay that way?

“Tina, are you sure you alright?” Newt sits beside her, loping a warm arm over her shoulders. He’s as naked as the day he was born, but all she sees is his face. Newt’s mouth is open slightly, his eyes wide, his face slightly pale in concern. His coarse fingers stroke her bare shoulder as she leans into him, bumping her nose into his neck. Newt pulls their blankets up over them, draping the furs carefully round her.

“I expected it to be different,” Tina explains quietly, and his breath hitches. 

“Did you not like it?” Newt asks her nervously, his voice high and anxious. He tightens his grip around her, his nails digging into her skin, “Did I hurt you?” Tina sighs. Must she always say the wrong thing? She turns, taking his hand. 

“I loved it,” Tina promises him honestly, entwining their hands together, “But I’d just been dreaming about it for so long…” Tina trails off, looking down, biting her lip at his dumbfounded expression. 

“You’d been dreaming...” Newt whispers in a completely different voice. Gone are his nerves, back is her Newt. The man who tames dragons. His gives her hand a sharp tug and Tina looks up. His eyes are like molten gold, “Merlin Tina, if I’d know that, we would’ve done this weeks ago,” Her thighs clench together involuntarily. 

“We would have, would we?” Tina teases him breathlessly and Newt chuckles deep in his throat. She lies back, pressing her head against his chest. Her fingers play idly with the various cuts and crevasses that slew his skin. They stay like that for a while, breathing together. 

“Do you think we did it?” Newt muses, and Tina lifts her head up sleepily to stare at him, “make a child?” Her lips twist, considering. 

“I don’t know,” Tina replies seriously, “but we certainly gave it our best shot,” Newt laughs again, loudly. He throws his head back, leaning back in her arms in mirth.   
Tina feels herself smile, but narrows her eyebrows in any case. 

“One day I’m going to tell this child,” She arms petulantly, perching her chin on his collarbone, “That their father laughed at the concept of their conception,” Newt widens his eyes in mock horror. 

“Are you now?” He smiles down at her adoringly, clearly taking no head to her words. Tina scowls, nodding tersely. Newt presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“And I will tell this child,” He says sweetly, running a thumb down her naked spine making her shiver, “That I fall more for their mother every single day that passes,”  
Tina flushes, from her head to her toes. A silly smile grows on her face, like a rose in flower. 

“Even when I get mad at you?” She asks, half playfully, half seriously. Tina knows she is a rose with thorns. Newt kisses her as an answer and Tina feels her furrowed brow melt away with her fears. They exchange soft kisses in the candlelight till the wax burns low. Newt’s almost asleep when Tina forces herself to pipe up again.

“I hope I’m pregnant,” She announces cautiously, biting the inside of her cheek. Newt yawns in answer which does nothing for Tina's nerves. 

“Does that bother you?” She asks anxiously. His eyelids open a crack. 

“Does it bother me?” Newt smiles down at her gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Love, it excites me beyond reason,” His eyes turn wet, and his smile wobbles tremendously with joy and Tina’s worries disappear in a flash and smiling she settles down to slumber. Her husband however has another question. 

“What if you’re not?” 

“Then we’ll have to try again,” Tina groans, swatting the side of his chest, “I just proclaimed to the court I already was! I think they’re going to notice when there’s no bloody baby,” 

A warm hand slides down and rests itself on her abdomen. Newt traces soft symbols on her stomach with the tip of one finger. The swirls tingle on her skin and Tina shivers, pressing herself up against him. Her bare stomach presses into his own and his hand becomes trapped. Newt huffs out a frustrated breath of annoyance. 

“I can’t reach your stomach like this,” He berates her. Tina smiles pressing deeper. Her breasts brush teasingly against his chest, her hand reaching down to squeeze his thigh. 

“What are you doing anyway?” She asks coyly, wriggling her eyebrows mischievously, “some dark magic?” Tina’s hands begin to trace their own rough patterns carelessly. They’re nothings, made up on the fly, mostly just soft circles. Newt’s were precise, and almost calculated. She could still feel them, his touch buried under her skin; like worms wriggling under soil. Newt ducks his head bashfully. 

“Just a little helping hand,” He says airily, his eyes twinkling. 

“Mm hmm,” Tina shoots him a glare, but it has no heat to it. Her hand tightens around his thigh, and Newt’s eyes turn glassy as she begins to explore upwards. He’s already half hard in her hands. Tina gives him a tentative stroke and Newt moans throwing his head back on the pillows. 

“Tina,” He groans as she continues her explorations, her touch gaining momentum. Tina hums as he pants, and presses hot kisses to his throat. 

“You were planting a spell weren’t you, making sure we’re successful,” She murmurs sweetly. Newt gasps his assent, but his voice quickly breaks off as she gives him a particularly hard flick. Tina swings her legs round, sitting primly on his thighs. The sheet falls off her shoulders, and she shivers in the sudden night air. 

“You might lead me to think you don’t want to make love to me anymore,” Tina chides, raising her eyebrows in challenge. She lets go of him, crossing her arms over her chest. Newt growls leaning up into a seated position. He bats her forearms away, before taking her nipple in his mouth. Tina sighs, looping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When Newt looks up, both his lip and her breast are red.

“Tina, I think I will die if I don’t make love to you every day,” He promises serenely. Tina smiles, pressing her nose into his hair, “Is that alright, my dragoness?” 

Tina leans back frowning, pressing her palms into his chest. Newt smirks, but let’s himself be pressed back into the mattress. Tina runs her fingers over the scars that scatter his body. They’re rough over her soft palms, and she bites her lip at the sensation. Her husband’s body is hot to the touch, almost burning. Newt watches her from hooded eyes, and they flash emerald in the firelight. 

“I’m not the dragon,” Tina murmurs softly, “You’re the dragon,” She lifts herself up, and a lines herself tentatively. Do people really do it like this? Dreams were one thing; real life was different. Newt’s nails digging into her waist seem to answer her question well enough. Tina slips down slowly. It burns, but not as much as it did before. Eventually they lock together. Neither move. Newt’s fingers stroke her sides gently. Tina’s thighs shake with tension. Eventually she shifts, and she gasps as a bolt of electricity shudders through her core. Tina sits back, her eyes squeezed shut, alight with the sensation. 

“Go on love,” Newt breathes rapturously. Tina nods, rocking into his lap, her toes curling deliciously. Tina moans as his fingers fall down to flick her gently. She rocks cautiously, then harder, a slow pace that makes Newt shudder beneath her. Tina leans forward and wraps her fingers through his hair and pulls, as he kisses down her neck to once again maul again at her breast. 

“God Newt,” Tina whimpers, riding him harder. Her knees must ache, but she cannot feel them. All she can feel is him. Sweat runs down her forehead and she wipes it on his brow. 

“Yes Tina,” Newt grunts into her skin, “please, you, oh merlin,” He’s rising to meet her now, jerkily and he kisses her messily, tongue before lips. He’s half beast himself as he comes, and Tina too comes apart with an explosion with rains fire behind her eyelids. She collapses on top of him, exhausted. Newt’s arms come round her tenderly, and Tina reaches down to pull the blankets once again on top of them. 

“Well that’s definitely done it,” He mumbles tiredly, and Tina laughs before finally snuggling down to sleep. She presses a sweaty hand to her abdomen. ‘I hope so,’ She thinks letting sleep overcome her, ‘I hope so, so very much,’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good, bad or ugly?


	13. The tornament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day of autumn, and a jousting misjudge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I thought about this chapter, and I was like, it won't take that long... But I greatly under estimated it's size! Anyway here is is, and I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Quick disclaimer: Unfortunately, I think chapters will take a bit longer for the rest of the story. Partially because Uni has started up again for me, and also because I haven't really finished any other chapters properly yet (oops!). But don't worry, I'm going to finish this, I've marked it all out, and hopefully it'll be awesome. But it might take a bit longer.

Newt wakes tired, yet satisfied. He opens his eyes a crack, just to assure himself last night was not a dream.

A gorgeous, naked Tina lies in his arms. Her soft snores tickle his neck. A wide smile caresses Newt’s face as he takes the sight before him. He presses a kiss to her forehead. It’s salty with their sweat. He leans back, his head bouncing against the fluffy pillows. God, he’s so happy. It must be against the law to be so utterly content with life. 

When they had first slept together, just slept, in his tent timidly; anxious at night and shy in the morning…Newt had thought that was the climax to his joy. To awake with their legs entwined, a warm and tingly feeling in his chest. He thought nothing could be better. But Merlin, how wrong he was.

Tina yawns, brushing her cheek against his chest, slowly waking from her slumber. Newt stares down at her, his eyes and heart full of love. 

“Good morning,” Newt whispers in her ear. Tina beams sleepily up at him, her eyes dark and droopy. 

“Mornin’,” She murmurs back. Her hands flex, where they lie on his bare waist. Tina’s eyes widen, momentarily, then she smiles sheepishly, her eyes light and hazy. Newt peppers her hairline with kisses.

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina says, nuzzling his chin with her nose gently, “Last night was…”

“Wasn’t it?” Newt replies, wiggling slightly so he can lower himself over her. 

“Hmm,” Is all Tina seems capable of saying as Newt gently caresses her, kissing her jaw in a leisurely manner. He wants to learn every single part of her. What makes her moan, what makes her scream. Right now, what makes her toes curls in pleasure. And Newt has all the time in the world to do so.

“Newt,” Tina sighs, as he mouths her breast. He grins cheekily, nipping gently at her ribs before nuzzling lower.

“Newt,” Tina calls, her voice frantic. 

But not a pleasurable frantic. A terrified frantic. Newt looks up, puzzled, as the sheets pull up over his feet, leaving them bare and freezing. Feeling rather like he’s in a cocoon, he places a final kiss to Tina’s hipbones before crawling up her and into the sunlight. His wife’s face is as red as a tomato when he reaches it, and shrouded in shame. 

“What?” Newt asks her astounded, pushing himself up on his forearms to stare at her clearly. Tina is biting her lip in the way that he loves, and avoiding his gaze abashedly. 

“Someone, a maid I think,” She huffs out anxiously, “I opened my eyes and… they ‘saw’ us!” Tina looks horrified by the mere thought. Newt feels his lips quirk up, but he battles them down. 

“Did they now?” Newt asks softly, launching out of bed. He presses her hand gently, and Tina smiles back weakly, but her eyes are strained. 

He himself doesn’t give a hoot if anyone sees them. Newt wants everyone to know that they’re together, so that everyone who says they’re not won’t have a leg to stand on. And nothing will convince people more than household gossip of lady and lord Scamander making love early in the morning.

But Tina is embarrassed, and Newt can’t have that. 

He opens the door a smidge, and looks around. The maid is nowhere to be found, but a note has been left alone on the floor. He bends carefully down to pick it up. 

“Newt,” Tina hisses, like a terrified snake, “You’re naked,” Newt turns round, his hip cocked out, completely unashamed. Beasts show themselves, all of themselves, all the time to their mates. It’s one of the ways that males show their chosen female that they're ready to mate. Tina’s gathered their sheets up to hide her breasts, and her cheeks are pink to his casual confidence. 

Newt leaps back on to the mattress, and crawls back over to her, smiling widely. He cups her warm cheeks, kissing her soundly. 

“Love, I thought you liked me naked,” Newt flops back on the bed, skimming the note quickly. It’s addressed to both of them; the invitation penned in an elegant hand and has fancy flowered edge. 

“I love you naked,” Tina murmurs primly, somehow blushing harder. Newt can’t stop his amused chuckle. She swats him hard on the arm. 

“It’s not funny,” She moans, burying her head in her hands. Newt teasingly tugs the sheet covering her down. Tina gasps, pulling it back over her. Newt pulls it away again, grinning at the angry fire burning in her eyes. 

“Newton,” Tina scolds him sharply, her palms cupping her breasts. Newt impishly swats hers out of the way to replace them with his own. His wife’s lets out an aspirated whine, but he can’t help but notice how she inclines her chest into his palms. Newt squeezes her gently, and Tina’s eyes flutter shut, almost resentfully. 

“Tina, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” Newt implores her gently, “I understand you don’t want to be seen by strangers, but please don’t hide from me,” Tina’s eyes open, and she stares up at him apprehensively. 

“I’ll…I’ll try,” She says firmly, nodding as if she’s making a promise to herself. Newt nods too, leaning in to kiss her nose. Then her mouth. Then her collar bone. 

“Good,” He murmurs roughly, delighting in how Tina’s eyes darken, “Because want to become thoroughly acquainted with 'all' of my wife,” Newt begins to kiss a line down her neck again, and she tilts her neck back into the pillow. He mumbles sweet nothings into her ear, about how good she is, how gorgeous. Tina immediately mushes into a more relaxed, almost blissed out state; a vague smile swimming round her lips. She nods faintly, leaning numbly into his touch, her eyes once again closed shut. Newt neatly files the fact away; creature responds well to praise. 

“What was in the note?” Tina muses airily, all while threading her fingers through his hair. 

“Nothing much. Just an invite to the tournament they’re putting on today in honour of our unborn child,” Newt explains wryly into her skin. 

“What?” Tina asks him distractedly, as Newt swipes his tongue around her nipple. 

“Nothing dear,” Newt answers cheekily. There’s nothing wrong about being a little late. Right?

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Tina huffs as they half run up to the grand stand. Newt shrugs casually, as she tugs him viciously along. 

“You weren’t complaining about it thirty minutes ago,” He murmurs as she pulls him through Hogwarts grounds. Literally hundreds of tents have been set up on the newly clipped law. Squires polish already gleaming armour. Knights march around like rosters, preening and comparing lances with important airs. Newt can practically smell the adrenalin in the air. He can absolutely smell Tina’s anxiety. 

“Well thirty minute ago-,” Tina argues back loudly, before shutting up resolutely as several people turn to look. 

“Yes…” Newt lifts up his eyebrows teasingly, delighting in her blush. Thirty minutes ago they were happily indisposed. She marches up the stairs to the grandstand where their families have congregated, and collapses into a chair, her mouth a firm line. 

“Where were you two?” Leta looks up, from where she was braiding a sleepy looking Isabella’s hair. 

“Busy,” Newt smiles cheerfully, sitting down next to his wife and throwing his arm easily round her shoulders. Tina leans into him unconsciously. But then almost as if she remembers she is mad with him, shuffles away. He draws soft circles on her arm teasingly, and she shoots him a dirty look. 

“Busy…” Jacob echoes cheekily, and Newt grins at him, while Leta giggles, covering her daughter’s ears in jest. Tina shakes her head, glaring round at every one of them. 

“I hate all of you,” She announces valiantly. Newt leans down to peck Tina’s cheek, almost missing her sisters rather mulish expression. He finds his brows furrowing. Newt’s never talked to Queenie much, although Jacob and he get on like a house on fire. Her unhappy posture confuses him. Shouldn’t she be happy that they’ve finally done what they’ve always wanted? Theseus was practically levitating with joy last night at the thought of their child. Even with Queenie most likely knowing their lie- Newt hasn’t forgotten about her mind reading abilities- surely she would be elated that their marriage has finally been consummated? 

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night Tina,” Leta leans over to grasp Tina’s hand tightly, “But I’m so very happy for you both, it’s all I could ever hope for,” Tina gives her a nervous smile, which doesn’t quite meet her eyes. 

“Thank you,” She replies quietly, her voice trembling with the need to sound enthusiastic, “we’re overjoyed too,” Newt gives her shoulders an assuring squeeze. He knows lying doesn’t come easy to Tina- except when her loved ones are at stake. Thankfully though, Leta smiles sympathetically. 

“I completely understand,” She shakes her head, her nose scrunched up in repulsion, “Has your morning sickness started yet?” 

“Um, a little,” Tina says awkwardly. Leta begins to wrap her in conversation about pregnancy and childbirth. Newt studies them for a moment, making sure Tina isn’t too uncomfortable, then turns to properly take in his surroundings.

The grandstand is elaborate, made out of dark wood, carved with creatures- in his honour Newt supposes. It’s slightly elevated giving them all a magnificent view of the grounds below. The first competition must be the jousts, and two knights line each other up, their horses pacing the ground. The Kowalski and Scamander children have their legs dangled over the edge of the construction, and they wave multi-coloured flags in the wind. One of the knights looks incredibly familiar. 

The horses thunder towards each other, as the crowd cheers and boos. The lances are cruel and hard in the sunlight. One shatters into splinters as a knight in a golden helm launches it into his opponent’s chest. Newt winces as the one hit crashes to the ground in a flurry of dust, while the victor raises his arms to the crowd, blowing a kiss to the grandstand. 

“Well done darling!” Leta Scamander calls out, clapping her hands together in pride. Isabella Scamander cheers loudly, waving her banner excitedly. Katherine Scamander claps slowly, her eye-line on the ground.

‘Ahh, of course’, Newt thinks, rolling his eyes slightly. Theseus never gives up on a chance to show off his prowess. 

“The first round is almost over,” Jacob calls out. Many of his male children, two Newt recognises as Albert and Teddy turn round their eyes shining, “Do guys you want to get ready?” 

“Yes!” They chirp, jumping up and running so fast one the stairs one would’ve thought they’d apparated. To Newt’s surprise, his wife also stands.

“I’ll go too,” Tina smiles shakily, “I need a bit of air,” Newt notes the strained lines around her mouth. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks her quietly. Tina shakes her head softly at his concern, pressing a kiss to his head. 

“I just need a moment,” Tina replies tightly, and Newt lets her go. He understands, more than most, the need she has to be alone. He replies to Jacob’s congratulations as easily as he can, though his eyes can’t help skimming the crowd for her familiar beautiful features returning. 

Tina walks through the grounds, delighting in the smell of fresh mud, the sound of clashing steel and the delicious absence of anyone talking to her. She really likes Leta, she does. But there’s only so many questions about her ‘pregnancy’ she can answer before going insane. Especially with Queenie giving her pointed looks every other second. 

There’s almost more children than men practicing at the minute, and it lights Tina’s heart to see them slashing their blunt tools with such determination. Small boys and weedy young men march around in their practice leathers, bragging about false accomplishments. Pushing and shoving each other to get close to curious girls pretending to look down their noses. 

“Hi Aunty Ti!” A squeaky voice calls out. Tina turns to find a ball of Teddy, pummeling towards her. She catches him with a loud ‘ooph’ and he beams up at her.

“Do you like my sword,” He brandishes his weapon proudly, almost cutting off his Aunt’s nose. It’s a long blade, almost too long for his short frame and there’s a large bulbous ruby glittering at the end. 

“Er, very nice,” Tina smiles uncertainly, “But perhaps go to your armourer first and not your mother next time,” 

“That’s what I said,” Albert says, sidling up sheepishly. His weapon is a perfect fit for his frame and is a sleek grey, matching the firmness in his eyes. He nods at Tina sharply and she knows he’s going to follow her advice. 

“Good luck today.” She says truthfully, and Albert gives her a small smile before sulking away again to practice. 

“Mama says you’ve got a baby in your belly,” Teddy says, with all the tact of an angry bee. Tina feels a sweep of emotions that roll uncomfortably through her stomach. It’s much too soon to be the sickness. But Mercy Lewis does she wish it was right now with her Nephew staring happily up at her. 

Because she definitely could have. Right now, Newt’s child might be inside of her. She may be pregnant. But is she? Anxious static beats between her eyebrows. Teddy’s curious eyes are wide and bright.

“Well, yes,” Tina states awkwardly. A sense of unnecessary guilt crawls up her spine as her nephew beams. 

“Can I touch?” Teddy asks petulantly, his sticky looking fingers already stretching towards her stomach, “Mama always let me touch her belly when he had a baby in there,” Tina presses a palm to her flat stomach. She has more evidence than she had last night. The burning scratches up and down her back for one. But the lack of bump is something even a child would be able to recognise. 

“No Teddy,” Tina laughs uneasily, quickly pushing his hands away, “There’s nothing to feel quite yet,” The boy looks crestfallen. But he steps back gentlemanly, his hands falling to his sides. 

“That’s what Mama said too,” Teddy sighs whimsically. Tina glares up at the grandstand. Queenie’s head is thrown back, as she laughs gaily at something Newt has said. 

“Did she now?” Tina murmurs dangerously, crossing her arms over her chest. Teddy doesn’t hear, some trumpets have sounded and he’s running off; as fast as his stout legs will carry him. Tina meanwhile is fuming silently, her hands clenched in tight knots. 

It’s all very well for Queenie to know the truth. But it’s not like her and Newt haven’t tried. Three times now, three chances. It’s bloody well better than none. 

Tina huffs her way back to the grandstand, her face a storm cloud. Honestly. She doesn’t know what to make of Queenie lately. Why can’t she at least pretend she’s liking joining sides? If the rest of the court finds out they are lying, all hell is going to break loose. But instead of her sister keeping it quiet, she tells all of her family? Thank Merlin people are never going to take Teddy seriously. Tina grinds her teeth. But if they do… She presses a hand tightly to her abdomen. Oh please, oh please, oh please. 

She’s so distracted by her inner turmoil; Tina doesn’t notice the crying child until she almost steps on her. Her new niece Katherine has curled herself up in a ball, and is crying bitterly on the grass partially hidden by some coloured canvas Tina was about to stamp on. 

“Katherine,” Tina immediately bends down to comfort her. To her surprise the usually shy and reserved girl throws herself into her lap and starts decorating her skirt with tears. 

Tina threads her fingers carefully through the girls long dark locks, cooing softly and waiting till Katherine controls herself again. Slowly her cries subside, and Tina fishes around in her skirts to offer the pink faced girl her handkerchief. 

“Sweetling, what’s wrong,” Tina asks kindly, as Katherine blows her nose like a foghorn. 

“I asked Daddy if you could teach me how to sword fight,” Katherine mumbles into the grass, plucking a stem up and twirling it between her small fingertips, “You said to ask Daddy, so I did,” Tina nods her head along, already with a sinking suspicion she knows what ‘daddy’ said. 

“What did he say?” Tina asks her softly, placing a warm arm around her shoulders.

“Daddy said no, said I’m a lady, and ladies don’t fight,” Katherine spits out the words as if they’re poison, “So then I asked Mummy, but Mummy said 'only if Isabella wants to as well',” The girl throws her piece grass despondently to the ground and the picks up a fresh one. 

“All Isabella likes is dresses and boys,” Katherine screws up her cute button nose in clear distaste, “Mummy knows that, so Mummy said no as well,” She hangs her head sadly and gives a large sniff. 

Tina raises her eyebrows. She doesn’t know if she would pick up on something like that as a child. Katherine Scamander is not a naïve little girl. 

“Are you sure your Daddy didn’t mean, when you were older you can start?” Tina asks her gently, trying not add to the flames but wanting to know all the same. Katherine shakes her head, her chestnut curls bouncing. 

“No,” She turns her head, “I said you were a lady and you fight, and he said you were a special kind of lady; I don’t think he meant it as a good thing,” Katherine looks up at her hesitantly, as her she’s afraid of offending her. Tina bites down hard on her lip to stop her half amused, half savage grin. Theseus Scamander, I’m going to kick your arse after I finish comforting your daughter.

“You really want to learn how to fight then?” Tina asks Katherine curiously. She’s dressed identically to her twin sister. In a white lacy dress, and a dark red satin bow tied round her waist. But while Isabella stayed next to her mother in the grandstand, exchanging pleasantries with other young ladies; Katherine is here, her bow slightly crooked and mud on her skirt. Katherine nods up at her eagerly, her brown eyes shining bright. 

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” She speaks, her words tumbling over themselves. She stands up in a burst of energy, showing off to Tina her moves with a spare stick lying on the ground. And she’s not half bad, Tina thinks with a smile. 

“The knights…they look so graceful, like they’re made of water,” Katherine spins around in a circle, before stabbing an invisible opponent,” I didn’t know ladies could hold swords until I saw you,” The girl looks down at Tina with barely concealed awe. 

Tina feels a reddening rush of injustice. Why should this little girl not get a chance at something she’s passionate about? She has a sudden vision of herself banging Leta and Theseus’s heads together. Tina stands, giving the girl a tight hug. 

“I could teach you if you want,” She whispers quietly as she pulls away, “In secret, no one would have to know,” Katherine’s eyes widen with joy for a moment. But all too soon, they darken again. 

“It’s all right,” She murmurs sadly, gesturing weakly to her belly, “You’re with child now, we weren’t even allowed to touch Mummy when she had the babies in her belly,” Tina’s eyes widen. When she had the babies in her belly? How many times has Leta gotten pregnant after the twins? Looks up quickly to the grandstand. Leta’s clutching her belly carefully, never not touching the tiny bump. It's as if it were made of glass. Tina sends up a quick prayer for her sister. She can’t help but understand why both her and Theseus must be so protective of their daughter. 

“Plus,” Katherine continues, clearly not noticing she’d said anything out of the ordinary, “I think I’d like everyone to know,”

“Why is that?” Tina cocks her head, smiling slightly. The girl shrugs  
.  
“Isabella’s the pretty one, the baby’s going to be a boy,” Katherine bites her tiny lip, her eyes brimming with tears again, “And then I won’t be anyone,” Something large bobs in Tina’s throat, causing her to become momentary speechlessness. She brings the girl into her arms again, rocking her gently listening to her wet little breaths. 

“I’ll try and get you a tutor, I promise,” Tina tells the girl honestly, “As long as you keep it a secret,” Katherine looks up, hope growing out of her like a flower. 

“I can keep secrets,” She nods keenly. Tina smiles softly, brushing a motherly thumb over her cheek. But the witch can’t help but feel she could do more for her insecure niece. Tina sucks on the inside of her cheek, deep in thought. But what could she do? A gift perhaps? But she couldn’t get Katherine a sword, for the risk her parents might find it and start asking questions. Something else then…Something that no one would be able to take away from her, something to boost her confidence, something to set her apart…

Theseus walks past them. He’s whistling, his head thrown back, an jaunty skip in his step. He doesn’t even notice his daughter and sister in law wrapped together on the ground as he slips into his tent. Tina catches a glint of his armor. It’s well made; perfect for a tall, lean person such as himself. Or Newt. Or her even, if she never thought about trying it. 

Tina’s head shoots up. A smile dances around her lips. She’s got an idea. 

The horns sound, proclaiming the beginning to the tournament. Newt twists round in his seat. Tina still isn’t back. He surveys the grounds, looking avidly for a familiar wave of black locks. But no. Nothing. Newt feels his face clench with anxious static. He manages to push it down, but he can’t help but recognise the harsh knowledge that it’s harder to do than before they were married. 

He’d forgotten what it was like. To love a person so completely, that even the thought of them missing, even for the most innocent reason, was pure torture. Love. Newt grins down at his lap stupidly. It’s probably too soon to tell her, he would never assume that Tina feels the same way yet. Though perhaps…what she said last night to his jilted confession. He grins wider. 

Being with Tina... The sun shines brighter, the air tastes sweeter. Everything colour seems more vibrant, his creatures more playful. But Newt can’t help but feel a dark cloud hovering over his head now that Tina is missing. 

“Tina is fine, I’m sure Newt,” Leta leans over, one of her hands on her belly, the other waving Katherine over who was clambering up the stairs, “The sickness it’s…not very pleasant,” She smiles kindly at him and Newt nods his head gingerly, forcing himself to smile back. 

‘Except it’s not, it’s not the sickness,’ Newt thinks nervously, ‘so where is she?’ His mind would be as floppy as a flobberworm if he thought they were surrounded by friends here. They're not; he's not even sure if half of them would be. And today most all of their court carries swords. 

Newt watches the games with an uncharacteristic tense line to his spine. He barely notices Theseus’s incredible prowess on the field. His brother is cutting through his opponents like silk. Witches and wizards chant his name as he rides past; Leta also whoops enthusiastically. Newt can only manage a crude smile as Theseus passes on his final ride which is proving the victor of the day. 

He can’t help thinking back to that ominous day, so many months ago now, when they almost got killed by Grindlewald’s thugs. They were going to kill them, even without the announcement of their success in breeding. The threat was enough. But now Tina had proclaimed the fact to the world. Would that not make their enemies even more blood thirsty? Had she been over-powered somewhere? Tied and taken? Newt knew she can handle herself, but his wife’s lateness and the sheer amount of people with possible grudges against them causes heart to pump hard against his rib-cage. 

Theseus wins. Because of course he does. And the crowd practically causes an earthquake with the strength of their approval. Now came the moment that all the young girls have been waiting for. The proclamation of the queen of love and beauty. The prize to the most beautiful woman of the day; perfect inside and out.

Theseus has picked a crown of white roses. The flowers hang delicately on the tip of his lance as he gallops over to their grandstand. For of course; he’s going to pick his wife. Leta’s back straightens in preparation. 

But to the surprise of the crowd, and the grandstand, instead the petals lay themselves gently on the head of his young daughter Katherine. She stares up her father, touching the crown with reverent fingers, gaping like a goldfish. 

“What?” Isabella cries out, her face screwed up in fury. She turns round to her equally shocked mother, “Mummy, it’s not fair!” But Theseus has already rode away, and the crowd is already dancing with Katherine’s name. Newt watches, amused, as a large grin grows on Katherine’s face, and the child beams with pleasure. She twirls around excitedly, as the Kowalski children ooh and ahh appreciatively; Albert almost shyly. 

“Well done Katherine!” Jacob booms, raising his glass. They all do the same, though Leta is slightly slow to do so. 

“A bit of a surprise?” Newt comments, softly in her direction. Leta nods, twisting her lips together anxiously. 

“He never picks the girls, in case one of them gets jealous,” She informs him in a hushed tone. Newt looks down to where Isabella’s arms are crossed over in a huff. He smiles to himself. Jealous indeed. 

“Leta,” Theseus blathers, stumbling up the stairs towards him. Newt cocks his head. He certainly got his armour off quickly. 

“Theseus!” Leta cries out, climbing out of her chair and into her husband’s trembling arms. They kiss passionately; Leta’s fingers in his hair, Theseus’s fingers splayed tightly on her stomach. 

“You did brilliantly, darling,” Leta says fervently, stroking Theseus’s flushed cheeks with delicate fingers. Newt expects his brother to grin and lift his wife up in his arms. To re-enact his exploits with joy, making his girls giggle. To call for wine, and make them all toast to his valiant victory. But to Newt’s surprise Theseus presses his nose into Leta’s hairline, his eyes eye and terrified. Then he shakes his head viciously, looking deep into Leta’s eyes, then round at them all fearfully. 

“I was, I was,” Theseus pants, one hand on his heart, the other wrapped in Leta’s anxious grip, “I was attacked!” Newt sits back in his chair curiously, as the rest of them gasp in shock and horror. Leta buries her head in her husband’s chest, as if assuring himself of his heartbeat. 

“How?” Newt asks his brother softly, running his eyes over his form assuring himself he’s alright. There doesn’t seem to be any blood leaking from his leathers, or any notable signs of magic.

“Stunned I assume,” Theseus throws up the hand that isn’t wrapped around Leta’s, “I was getting ready for the tournament, in my tent, then… I don’t know, there was a flash of red light! I woke five minutes ago with my mouth full of grass,” Everyone exchanges shrewd looks. 

“Come on Theseus,” Jacob says with a burst of laughter, “we just watched you win the damn thing,” Theseus gapes at the muggle incredulously. He blinks once, twice, then begins to stutter, just like Newt himself does. 

“You just won the tournament darling,” Leta tells him, her voice painted with worry. She pats his arm carefully as if he were a child. 

“It’s, it’s over?” Theseus looks out over roaring crowds, searching desperately for any sign that they’re lying. Katherine rushes over beaming, and throws her arms around Theseus knees. 

“Thank you Daddy,” Katherine says to her father’s knees. Theseus fingers the crown of white roses sitting in his daughter’s curls. He smiles vaguely, but there’s still a mirror of confusion in his eyes. 

“You’re welcome Kat,” He murmurs, gently pressing a kiss to her head. 

Leta leads him to his chair. Newt study his gait with an educated gaze. His feet drag slightly against the ground, and he needs Leta’s help to sit down to prevent himself falling off the side of his seat. Certainly all the signs of a stunned person. But then how did they see him fight just before? The rider fit his armour easily, was excellent with a sword and named Katherine as the queen of love and beauty. Who would do that if not Theseus? 

“Did I miss it?” A familiar voice calls out cheerfully. 

Tina runs up the stairs, her face strangely red with exertion. She hooks her hair over her ears, wiping her brow with the back of one hand as before she collapses into Newt’s lap. Newt catches her with a ‘oof’, and presses his nose into her hair. 

“Where were you?” Newt murmurs softly in her ear, ignoring Leta’s ramblings about how terrible morning sickness is, and does Tina want to borrow any of her old potions. Tina shakes her head quickly, and the sharp smell of iron shoots up Newt’s nose. 

“Yeah Teenie,” Queenie asks knowingly. Newt looks over to his sister in law to find a tired smirk playing round her mouth, “where were you?” He looks back to his wife. Tina is watching Katherine, who’s still jumping up and down with joy, the white roses askew in her dark hair. Tina beams, delighted, as his niece races over to show her, two dimples singing out from her cheeks. Newt muses silently, as Katherine pretends to have sword fight with and invisible being, and at Tina’s satisfied expression. He has a sneaking suspicion, her knows exactly where Tina was. 

“Tina were you walking around the tents?” Theseus leans over, still disgruntled, “Did you happen to see anyone enter mine?” Tina cocks her head, in exaggerated confusion. 

“I was busy being sick, I’m afraid,” Tina brushes him off easily, throwing an arm over Newt’s shoulders. He can feel her grin on his ear. Katherine erupts into giggles and her parents both stare at her in confusion. 

“You did brilliantly, love,” Newt breathes proudly, “It’s a bugger my brothers going to get all the praise for it,” Tina kisses him, her lips warm and tired. She tastes like wasted adrenalin. Newt has no doubt she’ll fall straight to sleep tonight. 

“I’ll get enough satisfaction from his confusion,” She giggles mischievously. Newt grins; this will drive Theseus insane. 

Tina leans back in his arms, and shuts her eyes. Newt runs his fingers through her hair, letting them patter down her back. There’s plenty of more activities for the day; the children’s tournament, the duels and even fire dances as the sun goes down. Tina sees none of it. She’s fallen asleep in the soft autumn sun, snuffling every now and again in Newt’s shoulder. His legs has gone numb, but he carefully doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment- he wants to live in it forever. 

It’s the last day of autumn; the kids scream, and play. Albert wins in the children’s tournament, and Katherine gets the honour of presenting him with her favour. Leta and Queenie actually exchange some kind words. Newt chats happily with Jacob, and Theseus finally stops complaining about being stunned, and begins to enjoy himself. Unfortunately enjoying himself means teasing Newt about his marital bed, but with the pleasant memories of last night and this morning, Newt finds himself laughing along with him. 

Tina finally wakes, with a kitten like yawn, just in time for the fireworks. 

“Whazzhappening,” She whimpers tiredly into his neck, as a loud boom shakes the sky. The crowd oohs and ahhs as bright bursts of light explode above them. Sparks turning into prancing horses, and blooming flowers decorate the sky. The final display is the scene of two roaring dragons, flying round each other lovingly. They send up golden flames of fire that transform into an egg, that quickly cracks into a hatching that shakes it tiny wings, sneezing sparks. 

You really don’t need to be a genius to figure out that symbolism. Newt didn’t need Theseus’s hard punch to his shoulder.

“Not particularly subtle,” Newt muses drily, and Tina huffs her agreement, still half-asleep. Her gown has slipped down her shoulder, exposing her creamy skin to him. Newt presses wet kisses to her skin, and she hums. 

“How tired are you now?” He murmurs, sneakily skimming teasingly over the edge of hips, bunching up her skirts slightly. Tina takes a sharp intake of breath, and he chuckles through his nose, hiding the sound in her hair. 

“Newton,” She berates him, suddenly sounding much more awake, “we’re in public, someone might see,” For some reason, that thought causes his cock to squirm beneath his trousers. He tries to stop prevent it, but having Tina in his lap is not helping matters at all; especially when she shuffles, probably trying to understand what’s currently pressed against her backside. Tina turns in his arms, and he gets a glimpse of a startled grin. 

“Really?,” Tina asks him wickedly, “You like that do you? Did you secretly like it when the maid walked in on us this morning?” Newt can tell she’s teasing him, but her raspy sleep worn voice, and the way she’s smiling at him- with her tongue between her teeth- is not helping his current situation. Neither is the way she presses down on it, much too deliberately, causing him to hiss. 

“Tina,” Newt growls out a warning, as she nips at his neck under the pretence of fixing his collar. 

“What?” She sing-songs innocently, looking down at him through her eyelashes. A delicious sequence of how he’s going to get back at her, swims quick fast through Newt’s mind. His hand falls down hard on her hip, and he smirks as she stiffens. 

"Perhaps you should take Tina to bed,” Queenie says pointedly, “You must be sick of her using you as a makeshift bed,” Newt catches her eye, flushing hot as he sees, quite clearly from her queasy expression, that she saw everything lude act that just rushed through his mind. 

They leave quickly, Tina wrapped deliberately close to him to hide his arousal from the world. Eventually they make it back to the castle, and Tina erupts into laughter, leaning her palm up against the stone wall to steady herself. Newt crowds her against it, twisting his lips in amusement. 

“You’re a minx, did you know that?” He frowns at her darkly, but his eyes are dancing. Tina smiles, brushing off his mock anger easily.

“And what are you going to do about it?” She asks coyly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Newt smiles dangerously, his fingers playing with her folds of her skirt. Tina’s eyes widen, as he leans into kiss her. They’ve not made it too their room yet; and although the corridor is empty, it is by no means going to stay that way. 

“Newt, we can’t- not here,” Tina breaths tightly, as Newt kisses a line down her neck, sucking dark bruises into her skin. He groans, but acquiesces taking her hand and drags her to their chambers so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if they were a blur to on lookers. 

“In a hurry are you?” Tina observes wryly, though Newt can’t help but notice she’s picked up her dress so it won’t be in the way. He lets out a strangled whine as an answer, and her laughter rings his ears as they round the hallway to their bedroom. 

“We’re not leaving this room for at least a week,” Newt pants gruffly, as he shuts the door firmly behind them. 

“Fine by me,” Tina grins, tugging him closer enthusiastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!  
> PS if you watch game of thrones, think the joust in season one, that's kinda what I was going for. And GOT is where the queen of love of beauty is from too!


	14. The storm after the calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three explanations- one good, two bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!   
> I wrote this chapter thinking 'there's not too much drama'. Then I realized what I planned. And yeah.   
> Enjoy!

“Stay,” Newt mumbles from the bed sheets. His hand flops over the mattress, bouncing up and down enticingly.

Tina rolls her eyes lovingly, dragging her dress up over her shoulders. She winces as the fabric brushes over her breasts. They’ve been growing sensitive over the last couple of days. Tina knows what that means- or at least she hopes. Mercy Lewis, she hopes. Newt raises himself off the pillows and gives her puppy dogs eyes. She takes his hand and moves to kiss his forehead. Newt catches her lips instead. Tina feels the temptation as he tugs at her skirts. He’s still naked from their nightly activities. It would be the easiest thing in the world to tug up her skirts. Tina breaks the kiss reluctantly with a wet pop.

“Tina,” Newt moans, peppering kisses up her throat. 

“Newt,” Tina chastises him, pulling herself away. She runs her fingers through his hair, but still stands to get her cloak, “I’ll be late for my sister,” 

“Queenie will survive,” Newt replies dully, but he too rolls out of bed to snatch his robe, “She’s just lucky I have to feed the creatures,” 

Tina smiles, tying her light blue coat to her shoulders. 

“Is she now?” She asks coyly. Newt nods seriously, sitting on top of their little table, his eyes twinkling. He pours his tea with a deliberate pop. 

“Yes, for otherwise I would make sure you would never leave this room,” Her husband declares passionately, winking at her cheekily over his cup. 

“Never?” Tina wonders sarcastically, resting her hip against the door frame, “not even when we leave for home next week? You would leave me to have our child here?” 

Newt spits out his tea, his eyes blown wide with hope. Tina shrugs, laughing happily, one hand on her belly. He leaps off the table top and flies up to her as fast as any dragon in caught in a north wind. Tina leans into his touch, as Newt cups her cheek tenderly. He smiles widely as he shakes with barely restrained joy. 

“Tina, love, don’t tease,” Newt croaks brokenly, “Is it true, are you breeding?” His eyes run over her form desperately. Tina smiles widely, pulling his hand to lie with hers on her- for now- flat stomach. His fingers splay out as if searching for some noticable difference. Tina can see his face clench when he finds nothing, and rushes to explain 

“I’ve missed my course and I’m…sore,” Tina admits quietly optimistic, to Newt’s increasing delight. He kneels down and presses his nose gently to her abdomen, nudging his nose into it like any creature would. Tina feels tears pickle at her eyes as he whispers sweet adorations to her stomach. Newt’s eyes are also wet when he looks up. He smiles at her so brightly that Tina feels a wave of anxiousness- after all she’s not completely sure. 

“I may be wrong of course,” She tells him hastily, not wishing to get his hopes up, “It is very early and-“ Newt picks her up around the waist and spins her around, his laughter bouncing off the walls. Tina giggles as he kisses her face, splattering it with wet, loud smacks, every space he can reach. 

“Oh Tina, do you have any idea how happy you’ve just made me!” Newt blathers, setting he down again, “Merlin we must tell everyone,” His fingers tighten round her skirts and he grins broadly his smile splitting his cheeks. 

“Technically they already know,” Tina giggles. She’s unable to stop smiling. Her fingers curl round his neck. His own fingers are seemingly glued to her stomach. 

“Well we’ll tell them again,” Newt announces reverently, his eyes flashing excitedly, before kissing her deeply, “My dearest, darling Tina, you can’t possibly think I could ever let you go after this,” 

Tina kisses his cheek heartily, before regretfully moving away. 

“Queenie’s been asking for me,” She tells him mournfully, itching to get back in his arms again. But her sister is equally important to her husband, and if Queenie needs Tina, then she will go. 

“Please,” Newt wheedles, pouting slightly, “I have plenty of ideas on how we can celebrate,” He grins mischievously, his hands reach out like an octopus ready to suck her to his chest, to never let her go. Tina leaps nimbly out of the way. Newt’s hands grab nothing, his cheeky expression quickly turns crestfallen. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, sweetheart,” Tina pecks his lips quickly. She’s never called him that before, but it can’t help but feel right. Her husband has a sweet heart. Newt is sweet in every sense in the word. He even tastes sweet. Like sweeten tea, and their last nights love making. Tina presses her palm to his cheek. Newt turns his head, catching her fingers with his lips. 

“Goodbye you two,” Newt wishes them well softly, his eyes brimming with love. Tina just manages to shut the door, a silly grin on her face. 

Tina skips through the halls of Hogwart’s. People bustle past and she greets them all with a large smile and a happy hello. Pregnant. She’s pregnant. What has she done to deserve this little bean growing inside of her? Tina hugs herself tightly on the way up to Queenie’s chambers and her light blue coat ripples over her creamy dress. 

She can still feel Newt’s happiness on her lips and cheeks. God they’re so happy. And they’re going to be even happier. They’re going to have to make up a baby room, blankets, nappies, toys, a tutor for when they’re older. But no wet nurse…no Tina will do that. Tina won’t be one of those mothers who passes their child off to a nurse, to only see them at tea time for an hour on a Sunday. No, she’s going envelope her child in love. A child, her child, their child. A little boy with ruddy hair and freckles that’s practically over flowing with mischief. Or maybe a little girl, with dark hair and curious green eyes, a newly-welded sword in hand.

Or both. Probably both. Newt can’t keep his hands off her, and she never wants him to stop. Tina can’t imagine it will be long until there are two tiny pairs of feet pattering about the place. Or three. Or four. Tina beams, as she reaches for Queenie’s elaborate door. 

They’ll be a proper family- a beautiful, large, loving family. 

Tina hums a sweet tune as she turns the door handle, and she sweeps into Queenie’s chambers. 

Queenie is by her window, standing, almost as if she’s expecting her. Waiting like a teacher waits for a student before they explain their wrong doings in a disappointed manner- like they've been personally hurt by the students actions. Her sister is dramatically dressed head to toe in dramatic black satin. Her blonde locks have been wrapped in an elaborate wave, and cruel, hard, diamonds sit at her ears and around her throat. 

Tina smiles at her in greeting. Queenie doesn’t smile back. 

“You’re pregnant?” Queenie asks tonelessly, “You’re really pregnant Teenie?” Tina’s hand unconsciously drops to her stomach.

“Yes,” She replies, glowing, “Yes, I am,” Tina beams at her sister. Queenie offers up a wan smile. She collapses onto her windowsill, her skirts a distressed mess around her. Tina sits down carefully next to her and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” Tina asks Queenie gently. The blonde haired witch rolls her eyes, staring resolutely about thirty degrees away from her dark haired sister's anxious gaze.

“I suppose so,” She nudges off Tina’s comfort and cramps herself closer into the window frame,” If it wasn’t for the fact my older sister just disrupted month’s worth of hard worked for plans,” Queenie bites out sarcastically, giving Tina a scathing look. 

Tina clenches her hands in her skirts, trying her best to keep her mouth shut. She counts to ten slowly in her head, just managing to keep her breathing steady. ‘I just told you I was pregnant and that’s all you can say to me?’ Queenie clasps her hands primly together, her baby blue eyes flashing. 

“Of course I’m happy for you,” She replies to Tina’s thoughts frowning, “But Teenie, couldn’t you have told me you were planning on seducing Newt?” 

“Seducing?” Tina spits out, flabbergasted and horrified. She shudders at the mere thought, and shoots her sister a glare.

"I didn’t seduce anyone,” She states coldly. Queenie looks at her, narrowing her eyes. Tina bites down on her tongue as she feels her sister’s magic swoop through her mind. A faint smile dances around her lips, but it disappears as fast as it came and Queenie stands up with a swish. She sashays around, her skirts washing around her. Her sister is like an angry fairy, as she marches round the room. 

“All the planning, all of the work,” Queenie stalks, while Tina stares, “And now you’re pregnant- just like that,” She snaps her fingers and the sound vibrates round Tina’s puzzled eardrums. 

“I could’ve been working on something actually important- like, oh I don’t know- the on-coming war,” Queenie continues to rant, “But instead I was playing match maker for months, because never in a thousand years did I think you would deliver,” Tina’s blood freezes in her veins, and a cool shiver crawls up her spine. Her sister continues pacing the room, as if nothing is amiss. Tina doesn’t blame her. Her mind has gone numb with shock. 

“What?” She finally manages to gasp out, her mouth dry, her tongue strangely scratchy.   
Queenie purses her lips, and cocks out her hip in derision. 

“Come on Tina, why do you think Leta’s suddenly pregnant?” Queenie’s tone is a bit too close to condescending, “They’d tried for ages, they’d given up years ago,” She bunches up her skirt into an large bump, before brushing it down sharply. 

Tina finally manages to unstick her tongue. She stands on jittering legs. She has a sickening feeling she knows where her sister is going with this, but she wants to hear it from perfectly painted lips.

“Get to the point Queenie,” Tina glares coldly, her fingers slightly splayed against her stomach. It’s comforting to know that at least in this room, it’s two against one.

“Tina, for god sakes, we needed you to make an heir,” Queenie states defiantly, as if this were obvious, rolling her eyes sharply, “And if you two weren’t going to do it then-“

“Then you were!” Tina finishes her sentence for her snarling, “You were going to sell off another couple’s child for our own!” Queenie rolling her eyes again isn’t helping her blood pressure. 

“Queenie whatever goes on between Newt and I are none of your business,” Tina ignores her sisters scoff, and powers through before she ends up doing something she might regret, “And a baby, our, anyone else’s baby is none of your business either,” 

“Oh Teenie, don’t be naïve,” Queenie scowls, her hands placed firmly on her curvaceous hips, “When it comes to people like us, it’s everyone’s business- everyone involved had agreed, I’d paid them off in advance,”

“Paid them off?” Tina squeaks, feeling rather faint. Her stomach twirls, and she presses down the sick threatening to rise up her throat, “You’ve paid people for their child, like they’re a piece of bread or…or a cow,” Queenie fixes the diamonds round her throat delicately. 

“Yes I did- and they agreed to do,” She shrugs her shoulders, glaring at Tina as if it were her fault she'd paid off her court for their off-spring, “If there was no baby, what would be the point of your marriage?” 

“What would be the point?!” Tina screams at her sister. She’s practically foaming at the mouth. She can’t remember being this furious at Queenie before- not even when they were children. Maybe that’s because she’s never seen such a hard, steely edge in her sister’s eyes before. Queenie still isn’t backing down, her neck is straight and her hands a firm. Tina throws up her trembling palms. 

“Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m happier than I’ve been in years,” She tells her sister honestly, tears pricking at her eyes, “That I’m going to be a mother, that I’m with a good man, a kind man, a caring man who I…who I,” Queenie’s arms fall limply to her sides. 

“You’re in love with him,” She whispers, slack jawed. Tina ducks her head, her cheeks overflowing with colour. 

“Don’t read my mind,” She orders Queenie fiercely, “I can’t believe you, how dare you even think about buying another couples child to pass it up for ours,” Tina leers over her sister, using her full height to her advantage. 

“Of course I did, I had to do something, the resistance was a stake” Queenie argues back, one of her sweet lips jutted out petulantly, “how was I supposed know you’d end up falling for him?”

Normally this would be the time to talk her down. Tina would try to see it from her point of view, to be sympathetic, or even just forgive her. But not now. Because not only can Tina see a child ripped from their home, just like she was, like they were. But she can also see a mother and father having their child sold and stolen to a pair of strangers. Tina claps her own belly, imaging her and Newt’s child being ripped from her breast while she struggled and screamed. 

“Queenie, I love you,” Tina tells her sister tearfully through clenched teeth, “But I cannot stand behind someone who would do that, who would buy a child for their own ambition,”

“Leta and Theseus were in the race too,” Queenie says firm, though her cheeks are rather pink. 

Tina’s eyes widen with realisation. The ‘Scamander baby’. What those awful men were talking about all those nights ago, when she announced her pregnancy. This is what this is. A race between their siblings on who could provide them with a child.

Tina may be ill. She might actually be sick. She’d always thought Queenie wasn’t crazy about the goings on- or lack of- in their marriage bed. Tina could tell from Newt’s stories that Theseus was definitely, not at all subtly, egging them on. But Queenie…Tina had thought her sister was easy going about them not consummating their marriage, they she was happy about them taking their time. 

But no. It was just because she had created a despicable back up plan. No wonder she got witches and wizards married off so soon after their wedding. No wonder she was upset they couples were only going to be allowed one child per match till they could prove they had magical ability. If she was going to just whip them off to Newt’s castle and thrust a baby in her arms, how would they have time to check? Tina shudders. No wonder she wanted the babies to magical; as any child of Newt and Tina’s would surely be. 

Her whole body is bubbling, her wild anger pressing up against her skin. Tina wouldn’t be surprised if her arteries exploded. Queenies last argument doesn’t even make any sense. Leta and Theseus are forever caressing their small bump, as if it is their entire world. It practically is. Leta barely does any physical activity these days, she moves as if she's made of glass. Theseus snaps at people who bump her too enthusiastically, and Tina's pretty sure he hasn't let her out of his sight for all the time they've been living in Hogwart's halls.

“If you think for a moment they were going to give up that baby,” Tina frowns at her sister scathingly, “then you must be half blind,” And half deaf. God Queenie, you can read minds! Why are you only hearing what you want to hear? Queenie screws up her face. For a moment, Tina sees a shade of ugliness fall across her face. 

“I am not deaf,” Queenie snaps, “I’m only being realistic- this is not a fairy tale world, sacrifices must be made,” Tina bites down on her lip, so hard she draws blood. 

“Sacrifice?” Tina hisses, shoving her sister away. Her bare palms make a satisfying slap on Queenie’s shoulders,” I was willing to sacrifice my life, my virtue for Credence, for all those poor children Achilles' stole away. That is sacrifice Queenie not this…deranged puppet show,” 

“Teenie…” Queenie wheedles. Her eyes are still unafraid, unashamed. She still thinks she’s going to forgive her. Tina shakes her head. She’s had enough. 

“If you think I’m going to stay in this castle, and give the appearance of supporting you?” Tina stomps her foot so hard that her bones rattle, “Then you’ve got another thing coming,” She turns on her heel and marches to the door. 

“Teenie,” Queenie tries again. Tina hears the urgency in her voice, and it twists her heart to ignore it. But she still hasn’t heard an apology fall from her lips. And she’s not sure Queenie would’ve meant it, even if she had. 

“Goodbye Queenie,” Tina says to the door stiffly, before whipping round it as fast as lightening.

She hears her sister exclaim as Tina slams the door hard behind her. Tina refuses to look back, running through the corridors half blinded by her tears. Her happiness has melted into a puddle full of disappointment and anger. Tina lets the splashes fuel the flames burning in side of her. For the first time in her life, she has lost the trust of her sister. Now here’s only one person left in the world she feels can have her full confidence- her husband. Tina flies round the corners, desperate to be back into Newt’s arms. In fact she takes the last sharp corner so hard, and so fast she collides into a person coming the other way. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Tina blusters, patting the man down, her hands unnecessarily shaky. 

“Porpentina Scamander,” The man croaks, his blue eyes sparkling down her form. He grasps both her hands sharply, and Tina feels coarse fingernails dig into her skin. Blinking rapidly, she takes in her capturer with wary eyes. 

His ginger hair is a birds nest, sticking out in all directions. And his equally knotty beard falls all the way down to his toes, almost getting stuck to the fabric of her dress. He’s wearing shabby robes. It’s almost like he’s stuck various pieces of fabric together with magic and probably sheer will, and then draped it over himself and lived in it for ten years. Tina takes a deep breath to steady her nerves, and inhales the sour scent of sweat, so pungent she almost chokes. 

“Porpentina Scamander,” He mutters again. Tina feels his hot, dank breath on her face and tries her best not to cringe. It’s almost impossible to properly see his features, so thick is his hair and beard, it covers his entire face in a ruddy guise. Only his eyes stick out like two periwinkle stars. They twinkle at Tina, and she has no idea whether to be kind or terrified. 

“Hello,” Tina tests the waters, hesitantly. She’s never seen this man before in her life. She would’ve definitely remembered him if she had. The man grips her even more tightly, twisting her wrists to the point of pain.

“Tell Newton,” He whispers desperately, his unshakable eyes flashing, “Use the dragon, I tried to tell him, the dragon, wouldn’t listen, use the dragon,” His words tumble over each other. Tina leans closer, her curiosity pinging against her chest. 

“What are you talking about?” She asks him gently, as if he were a child. The man shakes his head so vigorously she’s afraid for his neck. 

“Listen, listen,” He mumbles, half to her and half to the walls, “Fire, fire and blood. Three eggs, one cracks, one raven, one witch, two sides, two knifes. Blood, fire and blood,” A cold shiver runs down Tina’s spine. The man’s eyes are rolling back into his head, and he rocks back and forward on his heels, leering close to her face as if making sure she’s properly listening. 

“I…I don’t-,” Tina stutters, now thoroughly terrified. She tries to squeeze herself out of his grip, but it’s almost as if he’s cast a spell and she can’t escape the man’s cruel grip. Her anxiety flutters against her throat, feeling his sweaty, dirt filled nails scrape into her skin. 

“Fire and blood, three eggs, one cracked, listen, listen, listen,” The man orders her firmly, spitting in his enthusiasm, “Use the dragon, Newton must use the dragon, fire and blood,” 

“Okay, okay,” Tina relents faintly, mainly just to get this wizard away from her, “I’ll tell him, I promise I’ll tell him,” 

The man smiles widely. His teeth are either missing or black. Tina lets out a long low breath as he finally releases her. She massages her wrists as the man prances away, still humming ‘fire and blood’ under his breath. Tina stands numbly for a moment, her breath coming out in short sharp pants, her mind racing. What or earth did any of that mean? Did it mean anything at all? Was the man merely drunk? But there was no alcohol on his filthy breath. Just crazy? Possible. But then why can’t Tina shift the hard stone sitting in the pit of her stomach. There was just something about the mans eyes…unshakeable, truthful, strangely intelligent. Like he was someone, something else in a past life. More than the intrepid man he presented himself to be. But for his prophecy to be true. Tina bites down hard on the flesh of her cheek.

Fire and blood. 

Tina stumbles her way back to their quarters, her feet stumbling over each other, tripping herself up on the way. Tears stick in her throat, and fear grinds in her stomach. By the time she bursts through their bedroom door, Tina is a trembling mess of a witch, with far too many cracks in her foundation. Only two things are grounding her- the baby in her belly and Newt standing before her. 

There’s a rare flash of rage found in his face. Newt’s fists are clenched, and his face is pale and strained. Yet it all falls away as Tina collapses against the door frame, the hard wood digging into her back. 

“Love,” Newt cries out panicked, racing towards her. Tina chokes out a sob, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing unabashedly. His fingers stroke her back gently as she cries, soaking his shirt with her tears. 

“Merlin Tina,” Newt whispers heartily in her ear. She can feel the shock on his breath, “What’s happened?” Tina’s lips tremble perilously. 'My sister is crazy. Fire and blood. My sister paid people off for a child. Use the dragon.' When she shuts her eyes she sees Queenie’s determined, shameless features. But when she opens them she sees periwinkle eyes shrouded in ashes. 

“Take me home Newt,” Tina chokes out pitifully, “I don’t-I can’t stay here anymore, please let’s go home,” She lets her weight fully fall, too tired, too everything for her feet to be bothered standing up anymore. Newt catches her easily. Tina feels her cool lips on her hot forehead. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” He murmurs, clutching her equally as close, smashing their limbs together, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you both,” 

“I know,” Tina replies hoarsely. And she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	15. Questions and answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's anxieties and Newt's solution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> This chapter kinda explores what happens last time, doesn't answer everything (hardly anything in fact) but it is sad and cute, so hopefully everyone still enjoys!

Newt rushes round his case, trying his best to distract himself. Usually his creatures erase all memory of anxiety. The sweet smell of dung and all of the physical labour, not to mention multiple creature problems... if Newt hadn’t forgotten about what was bothering him, at the very least his worries became much a smaller at the much larger threats of his creature’s calamities. 

Tonight however. 

Perhaps it was because of their long ride home. No time had been wasted. Newt had packed them up to leave as fast as possible. Tina had had a short nap while he got everything prepared. She’d practically collapsed in his arms, and spent the whole mid-morning sleeping off…well everything. Newt twists his wand round his fingertips, his eyes flicking to where Tina sits on the steps of his shed. Her face is red and raw, and her chin is collapsed on her knees. He hasn’t seen his wife unclench since she burst back into their quarters this morning. 

Not that Newt blames her. If everything she said about Queenie was true.  
Theseus may have been annoyingly explicit sometimes, but at least he made it clear he never expected Newt to force himself on Tina. That if he never had a child with her it would be disastrous for their cause; but then that would just be the way things were. Queenie however… 

To sell off children. To believe, blindly, that Leta and Theseus were going to give up their child, to pay others to give up their children…Newt didn’t- still couldn’t imagine it. How could someone be that horrid, that despicable, all for the sake of their families’ looking united? Merlin’s beard, how could a witch even think of doing something like that? And for that witch to be your sister…

Newt rambles back slowly to where Tina sits, her blank eyes staring numbly at the ground. He places himself carefully down beside her, and her head falls, a dead weight, against his shoulder. Their hands wrap together, holding on to each other tightly. This should’ve been a happy occasion. Tina is pregnant, they’re going to be a family. And yet.

‘Fire and blood’ 

Dumbledore was an oddity who Newt has known since childhood. Theseus always thought he was both a waste of space and of the castles food and supplies. Leta had wrinkled her nose up in disgust at the strange wizard’s putrid smell and teased him, almost cruelly about his nonsensical humming’s. But to Newt, Dumbledore was just a sad, old man. No one can even remember a time when he wasn’t a part of Hogwart’s walls, and no one seemed to care. He was practically the court's jester, skipping through the halls, reciting his strange repetitive rhymes. Newt had always thought they were nonsense. 

Then why had Newt kicked Dumbledore rudely out of his chambers after he recited his curious poetry. If his mumblings were nonsense, then why did Newt feel so uneasy? Newt grinds his teeth together, his conscience frowning at him. Because the wizards words foretold him breaking a pack he made with himself, a whole ten years ago. To never let Rodger kill someone again. He doesn’t want his creatures to be seen as killing machines: even if it was in self-defence. The swooping evil was small enough to be discreet. But a dragon and its dangerous flames would be seen for miles away. Newt grips Tina’s hand tighter, holding onto her like a life line. He wants his creatures to inspire wonder and awe, not fear and horror. Not fire and blood. 

“Newt,” Tina murmurs hoarsely. Her voice sounds like her vocal cords have been run over gravel, “Are you okay?” Newt peers down into her tearful, red rimmed eyes. Newt presses his lips to her forehead. 

“Am I okay?” Newt rests his cheek against her own, “How about you?” Tina sighs, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“Honestly?” She asks dully, and Newt feels his lips quirk up in an inappropriate smile. Yeah. Stupid question. 

“It’s just, far too much,” Tina’s voice shakes with pain, and Newt almost immediately falls sober again, “Queenie, Dumbledore’s ‘prophecy’,” Newt winces. Tina keeps calling it that, and every time it causes his mouth to fall uncomfortably dry. Prophecy. Something that will come true. What the old wizard explained to her was for more in depth than Newt’s repeatable sentence. 

But all of his rhyme- the full one Tina heard- sounded dangerous. Knifes and cracks; all of this combined with death and dragon fire made their future uncertain and on thundering ground, ready to blow apart at any moment. Tina must sense what he’s thinking, for she nods as if she agrees with him. 

“The only things keeping me steady right now is this,” Tina kisses him softly, and her lips taste like old tears. Newt lets her guide their combined hands to rest against her stomach, “And this little bean,” Tina finishes gently. Newt lets his fingers dip underneath her shirt. She inhales brokenly, as he strokes her skin. 

“Little bean,” Newt whispers, his voice tight with emotion. Tina smiles wetly. It’s the first proper smile Newt’s seen from her since the early hours of this morning, and it calms his heart to see it. They smile at each other for a moment. But all too soon Tina’s face twists into indecision again. 

“What do you think it means though?” She urges him, her dark eyes flashing, “truly?” 

Newt cracks his neck instead of answering. Tina has been dragging the subject over hot coals all the ways to their campsite 

“Newt,” Tina groans, her hand warm and slick presses over his own as he stays silent. Newt feels the pads of his fingertips pressing deeply into the soft curve of her belly, his mouth still a firm line. Tina rolls her eyes, her own mouth unrelenting. 

“We have to talk about this,” She tells him smartly. Newt lets his hand fall to instead twist uncomfortably in his lap. 

“Why?” Newt asks her impatiently, “I’d rather not to be honest, I don’t want to discuss my dragon being turned into a war weapon,” 

Tina rests a hand on his shoulder, and its only Newt’s love for her that prevents him from shrugging it off. Her thumb gently rotates against the tight knot in his back, and he feels his head lean back against her glorious massage. Tina’s nails scape lightly into the hair at the base of his neck, and just for a moment Newt thinks she’s dropped the subject. 

“Sweetheart,” Tina approaches, soft yet stern, “That’s why we 'have' to talk about it- because is it about war? Really?” Newt’s brow furrows. He looks sideways to her pale features, which urge him to join her. 

“What else could it be?” Newt questions her honestly, his voice high with confusion,” Cracks in eggs, two sides, blood for Merlin’s sakes- If that’s not war, then what is it?” Tina shrugs and her shoulder bumps his own weakly. 

“I honestly have no idea,” She admits tiredly. Tina’s eyes are crusty and she rubs them against the heel of her palms, before launching off their step to begin pacing back and forth. Newt watches her as she trembles.

Tina’s aggravated steps show her frustration with the puzzle. But there’s a desolate dullness in her eyes in which Newt could practically see Queenie. She’s talked about it. Tina had sobbed the tale out, to Newt’s crest-fallen and horrified ears. But only once. Yet he wants to drag Dumbledore’s rhyme with a tooth comb. 

“Tina, love,” Newt begins tentatively. As if sensing his calming tone, Tina holds up a hand quickly in defense; her other hand wrapped tightly around her wrist. Tears brim in her eyes, and Newt feels his tongue drop flat and helpless as she struggles to contain herself. 

“I mean a raven, a witch?” Tina blathers, her voice shaking like a leaf in the wind, “A bird? What does a bird have to do with war? And a witch, a single witch? I’m a witch, Leta’s a witch, and Que…my sister,” Her chin drops pathetically to her chest

Newt’s lips still prove to be useless, but he still scrambles up distraught wife in his arms again. He nestles into her neck, planting soft, comforting kisses to her shoulders. Tina’s hand cradles the back of his head. 

“Because if it does mean war- it just couldn’t bear it,” She sniffles, “If those were the last word I ever said to Queenie, or if you died, if our child,” Words fail her, and she too buries her face into his neck. Newt feels her shudder, and they cling together in a broken silence. 

Finally, Newt finds his voice again. 

“I’ve thought about it too,” Newt says brokenly into her hair,”But I don’t want to think about it, because I don’t want to think about you and the baby dying, and for me to not be able to save you,”

“Oh Newt,” Tina leans back, staring deeply into his eyes, “What are we going to do?” Newt lays his forehead against hers with a gentle thud. 

“I don’t know,” He says, the honest truth. 

Tina leans back again. Her cheeks are wet, but her eyes are dry. Newt’s never seen his wife look so determined before. 

“I promise to not let us die,” Tina announces valiantly, like a knight defending a princess’s honour,” and I promise to protect you with everything I have,” Her jaw line is almost as tense as the space between her eyes. Newt let’s his hand rest gently on her abdomen. He doesn’t want their child to die, to be born in the middle of a war zone. He just wants them to be happy. For their child to know love and happiness. Newt sighs tiredly. Does he really want to look down at his first child in his arms and think about their death? Newt’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought. 

There’s going to be no way to possibly forget Dumbledore’s words. But they shouldn’t hang over them like an executioner’s axe. Newt wants to get rid of the pain in Tina’s eyes. He wants them to refocus on their life; their new life as a family together, to at least diminish their anxieties before they consume them. Newt leans in to kiss her passionately, pushing down his fears, focusing his full attention on his beautiful wife. 

“I promise to try to make us happy,” Newt murmurs as he kisses a sweet line down her neck, “As happy as we can possibly be,” 

“Happy,” Tina gasps out, almost sounding confused about the concept. Newt doesn’t want her to be confused about it. He just wants her to ‘be’ it. 

Not even thinking twice, Newt sweeps her up in his arms, bridal style, and carries her up and into his shed. 

“Newt!” Tina puffs out, as they fall down into a heap onto the small bed that’s squashed into one side of his work space, “What are you doing?” 

Newt hovers over her, undoing her shirt buttons with a practiced ease.

“I’m making love to you Tina,” Newt raises his eyebrows up at her, a slight smile hanging round his mouth. He just catches her eyes light up in pleasurable apprehension, before he buries his lips into her chest. 

Newt through their, almost a month now, of being intimate, has gradually learned what makes Tina squirm and sigh. He pays liberal attention to her breasts, until she’s a mess on the mattress, and red in the cheeks. She paws mindlessly at his shirt, and chuckling Newt sheds it off his shoulders, before creeping further down her beautiful body. His nose is directly opposite her navel, and he snuggles into Tina’s warm skin, feeling much more than simply emotional. 

“You’re so wonderful Tina,” Newt murmers, peppering her belly with sloppy kisses, “I have no doubt you’ll protect us, you’re already protecting his little one so well,” Tina’s fingers thread through his hair. She can never get enough of his locks when they’re making love. Newt purrs at the tight sensation in his scalp. 

“Little bean,” Tina corrects him faintly. Newt nips her skin, just above her belly button, revealing in her hiss. 

“I’m trying to compliment my mate,” Newt reprimands her gently, wiggling her skirt down her creamy thighs, ”I do wish she’d stop interrupting me,” He flicks the fabric off her feet with a flourish, before caressing his way up to where she’s sweetest. Tina, for some magnificent reason is not wearing her underclothes. She giggles cheekily when he glances up at her, all of her past pessimism forgotten. 

God, he loves her.

“Mate?” Tina asks him curiously, before he can get too distracted. Newt nods vaguely, leaning up to kiss her. 

“My mate,” He replies, lovingly tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, and she smiles sweetly, “You’re my wife, and you’re carrying my offspring,” The unshakable smiles which highlighted their faces this morning, are back and are even more illuminated. Newt caresses the sides of her hips. He can’t wait to see them grow- surely nothing would be more natural and more right to see Tina glow with a piece of them. Tina drags his head down for another sensual kiss, and her teeth slash at him with a bite that makes him growl. 

“Tina,” Newt hisses as her fingers dip under his waistband. He’ll never get use of her touch- it lights his nerves with pure dragon fire. She smirks up at him, as he concentrates on breathing through his nose. He’s never gotten rid of his undergarments so fast before. 

“My dragon,” Tina gasps wrapping her legs around his waist, and for a while they forget about everything. 

Tina’s head is a delicious weight on Newt’s chest. His fingers play mindlessly with her hair, twisting the sweaty strands around his fingertips. 

“Thank you,” Tina’s voice peeps up from out of know where. Newt tiredly inclines his neck down to look at her. Her fingers are twirling in soft circular motions on his forearms.

“For what?” Newt asks her gently. Tina looks up, and he can’t look away from her smile. 

“For dragging me out of my mind, for helping me remember what’s important,” She studies his chin like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Her bottom lip is caught firmly between her teeth, and Newt carefully tucks a thought away in his mind, to draw this moment in order to keep it forever. 

“You’re welcome,” He mumbles, and Tina nods before lying back down, snuggling back down sleepily, rubbing her lips on his side.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” She whispers sleepily. Newt feels himself tear up momentarily. 

They’ve been married for less than a year, but he already doesn’t know what he was doing with his life before her. What was he doing? Really? Feeding his creatures, going for rides on Bunty, drawing, eating, sleeping. The person he spoke to most in his day was his manservant, Dougal.   
Tina…Tina has become his world. His passionate, angry, loving little world, that amuses, aggravates and terrifies him all at once. Someone to talk to when he gets up, to laugh with, argue with, discus life and all the trials and tribulations that comes along with it. She is both his closest confident, a lover and his best friend, and he truly doesn't know what he'd do without seeing her each and every day. Newt leans in, pressing a wet kiss to her forehead, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Tina is already snuffling in a way that means she’s rocked off to sleep, but he answers her anyway. 

“Nor I without you, love,” Newt says brokenly, before shutting his eyes in momentary peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	16. Morning sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's second month of pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!   
> Sorry about the wait! Thankfully I didn't spend an entire week writing one chapter, I did start piecing together quite a few more. But once again apologies if my updates aren't as often as you- or I- would like.   
> Anyway, hope everyone enjoys this chapter! 
> 
> Thank you so much oceanicflights for betaing! (Is that how you spell that? I don't know, you know how bad I am at spelling!)

Tina holds on to the cool rim of her chamber pot, breathing slowly through her nose. The acidic taste of vomit is still a furry coating over her tongue. It causes once again for her stomach to roll and she groans as she retches again, pulling her hair back from her brow. 

All Tina wants is to be back with Newt in his case again, surrounded by creatures. However, and for real this time, the sickness is finally upon her. 

For the most part it just came at dawn. Tina had grown to begrudgingly accept the new way of things. She’d wake, roll off their warm comfy bed to throw up on the freezing cold floor. Then shivering she’d crawl back under the blankets, and Newt would whisper sympathies in her ear and kiss her forehead. Tina was fine with it- not overjoyed- but fine.

However, what she didn’t expect was the new addition of her sudden repulsion to foods. Newt had merely been listing the courses planned for Theseus and Leta’s arrival in a few weeks. But, merely discussing their family’s meal... the idea of pork for some reason had caused Tina to sway on the spot and quickly race up the stairs to throw up her breakfast. 

Newt had at first anxiously joined her, but Tina had hastily waved him away. Firstly, the creatures needed feeding more them she needed her hair held back. And secondly… the idea of her husband witnessing her being so weak added an extra knot to her already weakened stomach. 

Tina wipes her mouth with trembling fingers and leans her head hair against the beds wooden leg. 

“Mercy Lewis,” She mumbles, pushing the bowl of sick distastefully away from her, “I know you’re going to be worth it little bean, but goodness,” Picking her wand up from beside her, she swiftly summons a glass of water to rinse her mouth out. 

Gulping gratefully, Tina lets her hand wander down to rest on her now silent stomach. It’s still mostly flat, but there’s no denying it. A small hard bump jutting out from her lower abdomen. Their baby. Newt and his beady eyes had noticed it first. Such a smile exploded on his face, that it made Tina tear up just to think about it. 

She picks herself up slowly off the floor, brushing her skirt down. The case sits enticingly open. Tina ruminates on climbing back in, but her stomach has now begun to growl in an entirely different way. 

“I’m better now!” Tina shouts down into the case, “But I’m just going down to raid the kitchens,”

“I’m glad,” Newt calls back, slightly muffed. Tina can dotingly tell, without even seeing him, that his wand is between his teeth, “Don’t forget to have plenty of milk,”

“I won’t” Tina replies, loving rolling her eyes. 

She has become an entirely new creature in his eyes. Newt for the past two months has been battering her over the head with facts. And, as it is with anything he finds interesting, he’s decided to learn everything he can about pregnancy. Tina has been dosing off at night, her head sat firmly in Newt’s lap, as he rattles out fascinating quotes to her.

He’s also delightfully announced to her whole household, and even to each and every creature that she’s breeding. 

So at least Tina doesn’t feel too bad sneaking into their kitchens. Their plump and rosy cook, Mrs. Weasley has had a mind boggling number of children. Tina wanders into the cavernous cooking space safe in the knowledge that the woman who rules the roost will understand her infliction. 

The kitchen is empty of people, but full of food and Tina’s stomach rumbles. Quickly she gathers together one of the only recipes she knows. A large bowl of flour is sat under the kitchen’s island, vanilla beans are in one of the cupboards, and she digs up a pallet of eggs from the ice-box. Tina wipes her brow lugging all of the ingredients on top of the table-top. 

“Pancakes,” Tina says quietly to herself, her Mama’s favourite breakfast food. Not really a single person food, but if she makes enough Newt and some of our household can have some too. 

She begins to deftly mix the batter. Tina can still remember leaning next to her mother’s elbow as she measured out the right portions carefully. And Queenie leaning next to her own elbow as Tina did it herself, trying not to think about her Mama’s smile as she taught her baby sister how to do it as well. Tina’s hand slips, and a large chunk of shell lands in the mixing bowl. She blinks rapidly, carefully flicking it out, trying her best not to think about the fact that Queenie hasn’t tried to contact her in a month. 

Sure, Tina hasn’t sent her a letter, but is it too much for her to expect an apology first? She begins to whisk the batter so fast, that blobs of mixture splatter against the wooden table top. Tina breaths deeply through her nose. She’s known for a long time now that remember her mother made her heart twist in her chest. But she never thought the image of her baby sister, with sweet blonde ringlets and cute buck teeth would also cause her the same pain. 

“Tina?” Newt says softly from the doorway, “Are you alright?” Tina wipes her wet cheeks quickly, and offers up her husband a trembling smile. Newt cocks his head to the side, plodding over to capture her in a warm hug. 

“It’s alright,” He murmurs as Tina snuggles gratefully into him. 

“Sorry, bad memories” Tina says leaning her head on his shoulder. Newt loops his arm round her waist, kissing her cheek. He drops his finger in the pancake batter, before pressing it into his mouth. 

“Hmm,” He looks down at her admiringly, “Delicious,” Tina smiles back, her grin true this time. 

“Thanks,” She replies humbly. It does look good- not too thick, not too runny and if you look closely enough you can see small pieces of vanilla. Perhaps one day Tina will be able to teach her own child how to make pancakes. That thought makes her heart even lighter. 

“You want some?” Newt asks her, strangely mischievously. His eyes dance teasingly at her, and Tina glares at him suspiciously. 

“Sure I guess,” Tina goes to dip her own finger in. But just before she can, Newt catches her wrist, gently shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease together, as he moves her hand away to sit back down at her side. 

“Let me,” Newt says, his voice low, dipping his finger in the mixture again. Tina feels her pulse begin to pound, as he raises it up to her lips. Tentatively at first she lets her teeth scrape off her the batter. Newt’s eyes flutter close in clear ecstasy as she makes sure his skin is clean. Tina notices with warm pride that his pupils are blown wide when he opens them again. 

“I’d better cook this up before we lose it all,” Tina observes lightly, as her husband’s eyes flick eagerly down to the rest of the bowl. 

“Would that really be a bad thing?” Newt wiggles his eyebrows playfully at her. Tina purposefully ignores him, fishing round for a frying pan. 

“Newt,” She rolls her eyes, though she can’t help the smile hanging round her mouth, “I can’t help but remember we are in a public place,” 

Newt jumps up on the counter and manages to slip his thumb in the bowl again, before Tina has a chance to swat it away. He sucks on it exaggeratedly, easily ducking her swiping at him with the pan she had resorted to summoning. 

“Can I not cheer up my wife?” Newt asks her cheekily, grinning at her loud sigh that flattens her cheeks. 

“Can you cheer me up in a way that doesn’t involve you ravishing me our kitchen?” Tina asks him, only vaguely sarcastic. Newt shrugs, though his mouth does twist at the word ‘ravish’. 

“Okay then,” He agrees, picking up the whisk with a flick of his wrist. Tina watches him, puzzled, as he mixes the batter around with the utensil slowly. 

“Newt, what-” Tina asks, just as her husband flicks a dollop of pancake mixture at her face. She manages to shut her eyes just in time as it splatters rudely across her cheek. 

“Oh!” Tina gasps angrily, wiping the slick liquid off her face with a free hand. Tina slams the frying pan down hard on the table top and stalks towards Newt who is helplessly chuckling, his hands clutching his stomach. Tina stands, her own hands tight on her hips, waiting for him to stop. 

“Food fight,” He giggles, running his fingers through his fringe, “Non-sexual cheering up method, wouldn’t you agree?” Tina clucks her tongue, swiping an egg from the table top.

“You are dead meat, Newt Scamander,” She promises, throwing it up and down in her palm threateningly. Newt gulps nosily and jumps off the counter, but it’s far too late. 

The egg cracks easily over Newt’s scalp. He gasps as the yolk runs into his hair, then slinks down her forehead and drips into his eyes. Tina can feel the shattered egg shells crunching beneath her fingers. 

‘Three eggs, one cracks,’ 

Could it truly be so easy? Has she just fulfilled one part of the prophecy by messing around in their castles kitchens? 

“I’m going to get you for that,” Newt promises loudly. Tina quickly ducks, and another egg splatters on one of the blue stoned walls. She tries to run, but Newt catches her wrist and there’s no escape this time. Tina tries to shimmy away, as a cold slimy substance slips down the back of her neck. 

“Newton!” Tina shouts angrily, his exhilarated laughter only fuelling the fires of her fury. 

She fumbles desperately for something to get him back with. Tina’s hand dips into what seems to be a bowl full of cut up cucumbers ruminating in some sort of liquid. Grabbing a handful, she flings them, hard, at her husband. The sloppy ball hits him square in the chest as sharp tang of vinegar fills the room, and Newt wrinkles his nose in distaste. To Tina’s surprise, her own sensitive nose seems not to mind the scent, and she tucks this useful knowledge away for later. 

“I just put this on this morning,” Newt grumbles, trying his best to swipe off the mess, “Tina, love, you’re approaching dangerous territory here,” 

“Oh am I?” Tina stands, crossing her arms, staring him down. For all her determination however, she does not notice her husband’s hands creeping towards the practically full bowl of flour. 

“Yes,” Newt smiles mischievously, “Yes you are,” Tina barely has any time to blink before she’s encompassed in a thick white cloud. The whole world has gone white, and Tina hacks the stuff out of her lungs cursing all the while. 

“That doesn’t sound like language of a proper lady,” Newt sing songs childishly as she splutters. Tina heaves layers of the stuff from her eyelids, until she can just about see him. He’s bent double in laughter, one hand on his knee, the other banging hard against the table. Her vision quickly turns from white to red. 

“I’m actually going to kill you!” Tina hollers, rushing at him. Newt quickly takes off, and they run round and round the island- Newt cackling madly, Tina throwing insults like they’re spells. A thin white sheen slowly but surely covers the floor, and the air is thick with the stuff, giving the room the appearance of being hit a sudden onslaught of snow. 

“Ahh!” Tina captures Newt in a massive bear hug. She grins evilly as he struggles, locking her arms around his waist and refusing to let go. He tries his best to swing her off, but Tina is nothing but not determined, and wraps her legs around him like a monkey. 

“Gerroff me!” Newt shouts at her in clear jest, as she wipes her flour filled face on him like a child. Tina is too busy suddenly rapped in a fit of delighted laughter to listen. She begins overflowing his face with rampant kisses, delighting in his wide smile. 

Mercy Lewis, she loves him. Just when she’s about to tip over into dark melancholy, Newt brings her back into the light. And always in ways she can never expect. Her eyes glance hopefully to where the bowl of untouched pancake batter still lies on the tabletop. What Tina wouldn’t give to flip that over her husband’s head. Biting down her lip, she begins to struggle towards it, her muscles burning as she leans over Newt’s shoulder. 

“Oi!” A terrifying voice shouts. Tina jumps in shock, her neck clicking as she struggles to turns round in Newt’s arm, to come face to face with a woman who is snarling like a saber-tooth tiger. 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Weasley stomps up to him, the floor trembling under her furious steps. Tina quickly unwraps herself from Newt’s waist, awash with shame. Newt feebly casts the food stuff off them as they face their red-faced cook. 

Mrs. Weasley turns pale as they’re revealed to her. The mixture of anger and shock combines on her face as porridge mixed with red currents. 

“My Lord, my Lady,” The cook wipes her hands anxiously between her apron, wringing the fabric tightly. 

“Hello Mrs. Weasley,” Newt murmurs, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Tina’s throat is dry, and all of her blood has rushed to her cheeks. She grates her teeth together, as the cook refuses to meet their eyes. Newt lopes his arm around her, and rubs her arm soothingly. 

“Sorry you had to see that, Mrs Weasley,” Newt apologises, smiling crookedly, “We’ll get out of your way,” He gently pushes a mortified Tina towards the door. 

“Ah, My Lord, my Lady,” The plump cooks pipes up. Tina turns around to see her studying the kitchens shelves with a kind of hopelessness; her shoulders slumped, her mouth a thin line.

“Yes?” Tina asks Mrs. Weasley, her curiosity getting the better of her embarrassment. 

“I…” Mrs Weasley’s cheeks flush, and she straightens her hair anxiously, “How much food you waste?” Her eyes flit over the flour scattered on the flour, the eggs splattered on the wall. 

“Not too much,” Tina exchanges a look with Newt, and he shrugs his arm tightening around her. Their cook is still slumped in a defeated manner, and she starts preparing food with loud sigh. 

“Ah, is anything wrong Mrs. Weasley?” Newt asks, as she begins cutting vegetables with a razor knife, the blade thudding down dishearteningly. The cook meets their eyes reluctantly dutiful. 

“Our harvest wasn’t the best this year,” She says softly, “and our supplies are running low,” Newt’s hand slips off Tina’s shoulder, and falls to wrap around his waist. Tina looks between the two; she’s rarely seen her husband looks so serious. She’d never thought to worry about their food supplies before; but then she’d never had a reason too. Their dinner plates had always been full, and Tina’s own servants had always spoken happily of community balls and banquets. 

“But we get any needed produce from the south,” Newt states firmly, his fingers sitting on her tiny bump protectively. 

“Yes, for the past few years,” Mrs. Weasley agrees, sweeping a bunch mismatched vegetables into pot, “But in this last month, our supplier has been cut off,” 

“Cut off?” Tina asks, her head cocked in puzzlement, “Why? How?” Mrs. Weasley shudders, and her knife slips on the carrot she was peeling. 

“Grindlewald,” The lady pronounces, and Tina’s heart skips a beat. Her own hand dips down to cover Newt’s own where it rests on her belly, “His followers have grown, almost double in number and they’re blocking off the boarder,” 

“Blocking off the boarder,” Tina repeats forcefully, taking a step forward towards Mrs. Weasley who hangs her head pitifully, “With what? Where has he found the men? The resources?” Her words are thick and rude- falling through her lips like sharp orders. For a moment Tina forgets her sword isn’t strapped by her side again. She can almost feel the cool steel on her hip as much as she feels Newt’s hand hard on her shoulder.

“I’m sure Mrs. Weasley doesn’t know details love,” Newt says softly, and Tina can hear his awkward smile in his voice. Their cook smiles at her husband, but nervously avoids her gaze. Tina swallows harshly, before forcing herself to take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley,” Tina apologises shamefully, falling back against Newt again, “I didn’t mean to be brash,” She offers up a weak smile, and relaxes slightly when the cook's characteristic forgiving motherly expression returns to her face. 

“Don’t worry darling, your emotions must be running crazy right now,” Mrs Weasley’s eyes drop down to her belly, beaming hopefully, “I won’t let our future master Scamander starve,” Newt’s fingers twist round a curl at the nape of Tina’s neck, and she hums knowing exactly what she’s thinking. Master Scamander. Their child. 

“I don’t want anyone to starve,” Tina tells her quietly, “Please make sure everyone gets enough please, there's only three of us, we don’t need food-filled feasts,” She looks up at Newt, who is regarding her tenderly. 

“No we don’t,” He agrees, kissing her forehead gently, “Please make sure we make our stores last as long as possible Mrs. Weasley,” The elder woman smiles up at them both, before giving them a small bob of a curtsey. 

“Of course, My Lord,” Mrs. Weasley replies nodding at them both in turn, “I’m sorry I don’t know more about Grindlewald’s forces My Lady,” 

“It’s not your job to know,” Tina brushes away her regret kindly, as Newt ushers them out of the kitchen, “Though it’s my job to find out,” She mutters under her breath, deftly ignoring his worried look, while wrapping her arm snugly round his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	17. The Scamander Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's third month of pregnancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> The next chapter is finally up! I really enjoyed writing this one, Leta and Tina have a family orientated chat as their husbands play outside in the snow. I hope everyone enjoys! 
> 
> Thanks so much again oceanicflights for betaing!

Tina pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear, for what must be the fifth time this afternoon. The silence around the two women is seconds away from being awkward. Tina inwardly scolds herself, as she eyes off her sister-in-law warily. Leta is seated, perfectly poised in the chair next to her. Everything about the witch is in unnerving perfect proportion. From the length of the pearls around her neck to her dainty silver slippers that just brush the ground. Even her rounded, six-month baby bump is perfect to her frame. Tina can’t help but feel like a gangly giraffe next to her, and everything from the burn on her skirt and her already sizable stomach causes her to want to run from the room. 

The Scamander brothers had taken Isabella and Katherine snow-ball fighting, but both the cold and the fun had been considered too strenuous for the pregnant ladies. Tina would’ve argued this fact- she would like nothing more to build a tower of snow balls with the girls and kick both Newt and Theseus’s arses. But Leta definitely didn’t want to leave the safety of the castle's walls, and Tina detested the thought of being seen as rude, and leaving her guest alone despite how strenuous the silence between them was.

She hadn’t been ignoring her sister-in-law per say. But Theseus had the information, sparse as it was, that Tina wanted about Grindlewald’s impending threat. The two siblings talked themselves hoarse over different theories; each more likely than the last. That he’d bought the troops, that he had bribed their supporters in the south, that merely the lack of food was from crop failure and Grindlewald was making sure the remaining food was kept on his side only. None quite fit, and that didn’t help sooth Tina’s anxieties. 

These deliberations had taken up Tina’s time. And if Tina was being perfectly honest, as she watches Leta delicately thread a stitch expertly through the project she’s been working on, she can’t help but be intimated. Leta just has so much grace, a lightness about her, and a clear friendliness all wrapped up in a woman who is intensely good at social interactions and the political game. Tina knows she can come off standoffish, even cold at times, and is as good at talking to people as a flobberworm is.

Leta Scamander is a lady, in name and in person. Tina Scamander is a lady because she married a lord.

“Have you two thought of any names yet?” Leta asks smiling, and Tina jumps out of her reverie. Her tongue stumbles as Leta easily summons another fabric square out of her sewing basket. 

“Euh not yet,” Tina replies, hoping to god she doesn’t sound too stoic. Leta nods as if she'd said something incredibly interesting, lining up the square carefully on the blanket she’s been working on for the past few weeks they’ve been here. 

“Have you?” Tina asks through gritted teeth, knowing she’s taken too long to justify this response, but unwilling to keep the silence going any longer. 

“I’m letting Theseus choose, I chose the girl's names after all,” Leta replies with clear joy jilting in her voice, “He likes… classic names, like George or Edward,” She scrunches up her nose a little, rolling her eyes in Tina’s direction. Tina smiles into her lap clearly seeing what she thinks of that decision. 

“At least he didn’t choose, I don’t know, Paracelsus or something,” Tina tries for a bit of humour, and thankfully Leta snorts through her nose. Even her snorts are lady-like Tina thinks wistfully, like a mooncalve sneezing. 

“If he called our darling boy Paracelsus,” Leta frowns deeply, tapping the top of her needle with clear forbidding intent, “He would know about, I’m telling you,” Her sister-in-law warns her, brandishing her needle at Tina like a tiny sword. She giggles weakly at her actions, and Leta gives her own breathy laugh before returning lovingly to her work. 

Tina leans her neck over, trying to catch a glimpse of her doings. The soft looking blanket is covered in neat patches- each shaded a different red and green. Leta has clearly already embroidered tiny pictures on each square, and now is at the end of her toil, merely having to sew them together in the right pattern. 

The one she’s working on now is a sweet looking nest on a backdrop of green. In the nest there is two larger birds, with two little baby ones chirping beside them. A small egg hugged between the feathery family. Tears prick at Tina’s eyes without her permission. 

“It’s beautiful,” She complements her, and Leta beams, caressing her work tenderly. 

“Thank you, Tina,” She says demurely, the rosy red blush on her cheeks picture perfect, “We’ve both wanted this for so long,” Leta trails off her eyes suddenly guarded, and Tina bites her lip, dropping her gaze in sympathetic pain. Katherine had told her vaguely about how she’d gotten pregnant many a time after the twins. And their lack of other children speaks volumes about how often tragedy befell them. 

“I wanted to make something for him,” Leta says, her voice rough with determination, “So he’ll know how much he’s going to be loved,”

“He’s never going to doubt it,” Tina says hastily soothing her fears. She placing her hand on her own bumping hoping her little bean also realises how much she already loves them. Leta notices her action, and smiles shrewdly. 

“Are you excited?” Leta asks her in a motherly fashion, hefting her working up from where it had been slipping. Tina grins; she can’t help herself. 

“Very much so,” Tina gushes hopelessly, her joy pulling at her cheeks, “Sometimes I have to pinch myself that this isn’t a brilliant dream I’m about to wake up from,” She places both hands on the sides of her stomach. It’s big enough that she can do so know, and growing every day. Tina feels sometimes that she’ll blink and be large enough for Newt to be forced to roll her out of bed. 

“Wait till they kick for the first time,” Leta says knowingly, shifting awkwardly in her chair around her own grandiose bump, “You’ll see, it’ll be real then I tell you,” 

“Are you able to feeling him kicking right now?” Tina asks her joyfully, her enclosed hands pressing delightedly against her chest, “Do you mind if I have a feel?” Newt’s rapturous lessons have been rubbing off on her. He asks her everyday if she can feel the baby move yet, and Tina as begun to count down the days until she can. ‘Fluttering’s’ people call it, but Tina is yet to feel their little bean show themselves. But to feel her nephew do so… she’d love that just as much. She presses her hand down on Leta’s chairs armrest, readying herself for her sister’s consent. But to Tina’s intense surprise, Leta visibly recoils, nudging herself away to the far corner of her arm chair. 

“No, he’s not moving at the moment,” Her sister in law smiles thinly, losing the thread of her needle. Tina watches, quietly bemused, as she quickly bends down to retrieve it. Leta re-threads the needle with uncharacteristic roughness, refusing to meet Tina’s concerned gaze. 

Tina swallows drily at the sudden change in Leta’s demeanour. But she’s too awkward to pry, so instead she searches for something to say. 

“That’s alright,” Tina says weakly, carefully making sure she tucks her out-reached hand away, “He must be having a nap,” Leta nods back at her gratefully. 

“Yes, exactly,” She agrees, her smile broadening as she nods, “He’s going to be such a good sleeper,” Her eyes softly caress her bump tenderly, before moving them over to Tina’s own. 

“You’re quite big you know,” Leta places another perfect stitch in her blanket, threading it through with the grace of a ballet dancer, “You might be carrying twins, it does run in the family” she looks up from her work, giving her a cheeky wink. 

“Twins?” Tina cups her stomach gently. It pokes out from her dress quite noticeably now, but she had never thought extraordinarily so. She rubs her bump gently, feeling the silky velvet slide under her fingertips. Tina only had the ruby red dress made three weeks ago, and the fabric is already tight around her hips. She looks to Leta, who is smiling at her serenely.

“Do you really it could be?” Tina stutters at her sister. The petite woman leans over and takes her hand in hers, squeezing tightly. 

“I really do,” Leta replies, her chocolate eyes warm. Tina beams despite herself, looking down at her lap. Little beans then, she thinks lovingly, humming a soft lullaby under her breath. Two babies, with tufts of ginger hair and mossy eyes- Mercy Lewis, they’re going to have their hands full. 

“That’s a pretty song,” Leta pipes up, letting Tina’s hand fall out of her grip to rest both of them on her hefty stomach. Mrs. Newton Scamander watches as Mrs. Theseus Scamander twirls her fingers in neat circles on her own bump.

“It was my Mamma’s,” Tina admits shyly, and Leta nods knowingly. 

“I thought it might’ve been,” The elder witch exclaims, clearly proud of her deduction, “I remember it from your sis-I mean,” Leta cheeks blush a vivid red, and she looks away abashed. 

Tina looks down sadly. She can still remember her mamma rocking a baby Queenie at her breast, as she sang like a nightingale calming her cries. And Tina’s sure both of them remember her Mama singing to her baby bump, in their tower by the sea. It’s one of the last thing she remembers of her mother, the very last being her death. Tina clenches her jaw in pain, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. 

“I’m sorry Tina,” Leta apologises shakily, “I should’ve know not to bring up…that witch,” Her voice tastes of self-hatred, and she hangs her head dejectedly. Her crestfallen expression pulls at Tina’s heartstrings. 

“It’s alright,” She smiles brokenly. Leta’s eyes still look shadowed, and her chin sits on her chest. Tina hastily brings her chair round to stare earnestly at her sister. The loud creak causes Leta look up tearfully. 

“Really Leta, it’s fine,” Tina promises gently, “My sister is the one that’s hurt me, not you,” Leta smiles wetly, taking a pristine white handkerchief out of the space between her breasts, and dabbing her eyes gently. Tina’s close enough to see the letters ‘TS’ embroidered in green thread in one corner. 

“That’s a good idea,” Tina motions down to her own breasts, which, much like her stomach have also swelled, making them the perfect size to hide things between. She cups them up lightly before letting them go, and for the first time in her life they actually jiggle back into place. Leta giggles, pressing her hankie back in her much bigger bust. 

“I’ve found them to come quite in handy,” She quips suggestively, waggling her eyebrows. Tina blinks while Leta grins cheekily, her tongue held tight between her teeth. 

“For what?” Tina asks, innocent as a lamb. Leta waits patiently for her to catch on, her smile cracking her cheeks. Embarrassingly, later rather than sooner Tina flushes, clapping her hands over her eyes. She shakes her head at the monstrous mental image her sister in law has given her, as Leta collapses with peals of laughter, wiggling her legs in the air like a school girl. 

“Oh Merlin, you should see your face!” Leta squeals, fanning herself extravagantly, “But my husband is a babs man, what can I say,” 

“Leta!” Tina shrieks, smacking her hands against her arm rests in pure mortification, “I did not need to know that- eugh,” She sticks out her tongue in disgust as Leta continues to giggle.   
Mercy Lewis, she’s never going to be able to look Theseus in the eyes again. Is this a strange sort of karma for stunning him a few months ago? Tina rubs each side of her forehead with her fingers. Her goal is either to try to dull her bourgeoning head-ache or delete whatever she just heard; both are complete failures.

“Come on,” Leta pokes her forearm teasingly, a smirk around her lips, “Newton must have his own…how should I say, preferences?” Tina feels as though she has been dunked in a bucket full of dragon fire. Her skin is flame, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Leta was burned from touching her. 

Half of her embarrassment comes from the fact that her sister-in-law is not wrong. Tina’s bump is in no way preventing their nightly activities, but it is getting increasingly irritating for Newt to squeeze on top of her. Therefore, especially for the past week, Tina has been on top. 

And Newt loves it. She can tell by the way his eyes roll back in his head, how his breathing comes in short pants as she rides him. And there’s one thing Tina says that causes her husband to growl, and paw at her desperately. She turns hesitantly to Leta who is tapping her foot in clear excited anticipation. 

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” Tina warns her, deadly serious. Leta lays a hand over her heart. 

“I promise,” She swears, her mouth serious though her eyes are still dancing. 

“Pinky promise,” Tina’s eyebrows furrow. She’s not having Newt’s secrets being spread to his elder brother. She holds out her arm, her smallest finger outstretched. 

“Pinky what now?” Leta asks, her face scrunched in confusion as she gazes at Tina’s waiting hand. 

“It’s a promise you can never break,” Tina says puzzled at Leta’s blank look. She thought everyone knew what a pinky promise was, “It’s just something I used to do with my sister,” Tina shrugs, waggling her smallest finger in front of her suddenly bright eyed friend. 

“I’ve never had a sister,” Leta admits in a small voice. 

“Well,” Tina smiles slightly, “You do now,” Leta grins. 

The two Scamander women glaze at each other, a warmth blazing around them that wasn’t quite there before. Leta curls her pinky round her own, and Tina squeezes tight. 

“Dragon,” Tina admits in a slow voice, and Leta’s jaw drops open in joyful realisation, “I’m never going to give you any context…but, yes, the answer to your question is dragon,” Leta squees, shaking their enclosed fingers up and down excitedly. Tina yanks her hand away, shooting her a dirty look, though there’s not much heat behind it. Her sister in law sighs, and gives her an appraising look. 

“Damn,” Leta salutes her, “I don’t know what to say Tina, but you’ve got game,” 

“I think we’ve both got game,” Tina looks wryly between their pregnant bellies. 

This time when Leta erupts into giggles, Tina joins in. In fact, their husbands find them breathless with laughter, and Tina clumsily sewing one of Leta’s many baby blanket squares. 

“Newt and Katherine won,” Theseus swings his arm peevishly round his wife. Leta rolls her eyes at Tina, but pecks her husband lovingly on his cheek in any case.

Tina smiles into her lap, hissing as cold fingers trail down her neck. She looks up at Newt, who grins down at her. His nose is a red bauble, and she deftly reaches up to brush the flecks of snow that cover his ginger hair. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Tina whispers happily. Newt hums in response, pressing his chin to the top of her head. Leta awws softly, and Tina brims over with happiness. 

“Have you two had a good day too?” Theseus asks them both hopefully, “I hope you haven’t felt too cooped up in here,” He sounds truly nervous about it, and Tina smiles at him nodding.

“No, we had a good time,” She announces, sharing a sidelong glance with Leta, who giggles mischievously. 

“Too much of a good time?” Newt asks apprehensively, sharing a look of clear fear with his elder brother. 

“No, just enough,” Leta pats her stomach lightly, before deftly sewing another stick. Tina does the same, and for her first time her stitch it straight. 

“Merlin,” Theseus gasps in mock terror, “Newt, what have we done?” The women laugh, and the men groan just in time for the twins to burst into the room, dragging in snow, debris and pure trouble. Tina leans into Newt’s arms, smiling round at their little snowball of a family. The Scamanders. Tina sighs, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	18. The fluttering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's fourth month of pregnancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Sorry it's been a week again. I'm on a bit of a break from uni now, so hopefully that'll give me some time to write, but I can already sense that I may be eating my words.  
> In any case this is another fluff chapter, and I hope everyone enjoys, for needless to say it might be the last one for a while. (Shh spoilers!)

Dear Aunty Ti,

I miss you! Daddy says you can’t come to see us because of your baby, but surely you could come back just for a little while. Mummy isn’t fun anymore. All she does is frown, and she made Margaery cry the other day. Albert says you had a falling out. That’s not true is it? Daddy says to say hello to uncle Newt. I say hi too. 

Love Teddy. 

PS. I’m saving you an orange. I’m not supposed to tell anyone we have them, but I think your baby would like one. 

\------

It was such a good idea; Tina just had to make a blanket. Leta helped her with the first few patterns. But the other Scamander couple has been gone for a few weeks now, and Tina doesn’t know how well she’s doing without her talented sister in law. For starters she just knows the colours are off. She thought it would be fun to do all sorts, but it turns out orange doesn’t go as well with purple as she thought it would. And the green is a bit too brown, the blue a bit too light. It’s also becoming a rather wonky square. Newt thinks it’s fine, but Tina doesn’t think fine is good enough for their first child…or children, she supposes. There’ll be no way of properly telling until they’re born.

“You two won’t mind it looking like this, will you?” Tina asks her bump nervously as she threads another golden stitch, “I know it’s not perfect but,” She shrugs smiling down at her handiwork. It’s not the worst. Newt helped her with the dragon. It looks realistic enough, an emerald green shard, flying in a baby blue sky. 

“It’ll keep you warm in any case,” Tina threads through another line. It’s as neat as she can possibly make it. Something fumbles within her. At first she thinks its gas, or her stomach turning. But then, there it is again, a fluttering. Tina looks down, her heart in her mouth. Is that? 

Mercy Lewis. 

“Newt,” Tina calls her voice trembling with exhilaration, “Newt!” She shouts again her voice cracking, and she hears the patter of rapid footsteps from inside the case that’s lying on the floor. 

Her husband’s head pops out of his case. Newt’s eyes are wide with fear, and his fingers curls over the edges of the cases soft leather. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand and a streak of brown gets left behind on his freckled skin. 

“What?” Newt cries, his tone a rare worried one, “What is it?” He rakes her gaze, his eyebrows narrowing at her smile and dislodged sewing. Tina waves him over, giggling as their babies move again. Newt trips out of the suitcase, his toe getting caught in his haste. 

“What’s wrong,” He questions her seriously, kneeling down between her legs, his chin rested on her left knee, “Is it the babies? Are you bleeding? Are they bleeding? What do you need Tina, anything you need and I’ll-” Tina raises a hand, halting his anxious rambling. She reaches down clumsily, to pick up his hand to press them to her stomach. 

“I felt them Newt,” Tina tells him, nodding along with his elated expression, “I felt them moving, I felt our children,” 

“Oh!” Newt’s mouth falls open with a soft pop. His hands, that were previously hard and unrelenting on her stomach soften with shock. He looks down at the raise bump below her chest with unrestrained joy, a happy sound bursting from the back of his throat. 

“Oh Merlin, Tina,” Newt looks up her at, his eyes shining, “Can you really? Where?” 

Tina giggles, feeling as light as a feather. She presses his hands down to where she felt the fluttering. Newt presses his hand hard to where she showed him. Then he leans in to press a kiss to the place, his eyes shut tight. 

“I love you,” Newt whispers. Tina stiffens, her ears full of his voice, her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Her mouth moves round the words, her vocal cords readying themselves to say it back, to shout it to the sky. ‘He loves me, he loves me,’ Tina grips her skirts with white knuckles, and takes in a deep breath.

“I love you both so much,” Newt murmurs into her skin. Tina looks down. His eyes are fully centred on her baby bump. Tina swallows her disappointed with difficulty, guilty pangs rocking her stomach. She shouldn’t feel disappointed about her husband confessing his love to their children. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Porpentina,’ She berates herself fiercely, brushing away her hopes. 

“I love you too,” She says instead her voice only slightly shaky, her fingers stroking her stomach. Newt nods, his ears stained red. He leans his cheek against her stomach, and Tina lets her fingers fall into his hair. 

‘I love you as well,’ She thinks silently to herself, her cheeks pink. 

Newt looks up, and Tina quickly forces her face to turn blank and inconspicuous.

“I have something to show you,” He says, a smile sitting on the two corners of his mouth. Tina looks up at him questioningly as he stands, but takes his hand anyway her heart full of trust. She carefully places down her sewing to be led through the various stony halls of the castle. 

“What is it?” Tina asks curiously, as Newt stays silent. He shoots her a silent smile, before pulling her along further. He’s leading her to their rooms, to her old one in particular. Newt stops them short, just before the door handle. His smile is a nervous one, and he’s tapping his fingers against his pant leg. 

“Shut your eyes,” Newt murmurs softly. Tina glares at him for a moment before reluctantly doing so- although she makes sure to leave a threads breath open so she can’t trip over. Or walk into a wall of razor sharp teeth. Her husband, unfortunately, is all over her japes, and slips behind her to cover her eyes with his palms. Now fully at the mercy of the darkness, Tina cups her bump protectively as they slowly amble forward.

“Newt, I swear to god,” She tells him sharply, “if you’re hidden some type of ‘nest’ in there, or if I’m about to be greeted by a pile of dung…” Tina tries not to flinch at the sound of a door creaking open, that Newt’s somehow manage to open with a kick of his foot. 

“It’s a nest of sorts I suppose,” Newt admits carelessly, and Tina’s back stiffens, “Relax love,” he whispers, and she bites down on her tongue consenting to take one more tiny step. The world is still dark, and Newt palms are still hiding her eyes. She can’t help but soften at bit by the knowledge that his hands are slightly sweaty with nerves. 

“Can I look now?” she asks him plaintively and Newt consents, removing his hands. Tina looks round, and her jaw slowly falls to the floor. 

“Oh,” Tina gasps, tears pricking at her eyes. Her fingers slowly crawl up to press over her mouth as she stares round at her surprise, “Oh sweetheart,” Newt leans his chin against her shoulder, and presses a kiss to her cheek. 

It’s her old room. They’ve been sleeping in Newt’s room ever since their return. Tina hadn’t opened her old door for at least a month, all of her possessions are now littered with her husbands and she’d never seen the reason to. But now her old bed, her mahogany furnishings, and the ruby red tapestries have disappeared. 

Each wall has been painted a light shade of cream, like a fresh canvas. Which is appropriate because the four walls are littered with half completed drawings, which she recognises as the hand of her husband. Unicorns, standing tall with their horns proudly aloft, mooncalves bobbing excitedly in the light of the moon. Everywhere baby creatures beam up at, half painted in colours so realistic that Tina would think they were real if she still couldn’t see some of the pencil marks.   
A delightfully squishy yellow carpet lies underneath her feet, a much happier colour than her old wooden floorboards.   
There’s not much furniture; an old chest of draws, it’s white paint flaking in certain points, and a wooden rocking horse that has a red ribbon round it’s neck.   
But the cherry on top of the room is a clearly newly painted crib. Hanging over it is a mobile which hangs heavy with a multitude of adorable roaring dragons. One is a pearly white, one fiery red, another a periwinkle blue, and the last the emerald green which Tina recognises from their own dragon, Rodger’s, scales. 

“It’s not quite finished yet,” Newt admits, and he sounds quite apprehensive to her ears, like a naughty child with their hand caught in a cookie jar, “And I’m not sure if we should get two cots yet…” His hand cups her growing belly lovingly. 

Tina spins round in his arms and kisses him enthusiastically. Newt responds equally passionately, one hand warm on her middle, the other pressing into the small of her back. She laughs into his mouth, as he gets dangerously close to grabbing her arse. 

“Oi!” Tina giggles, “We can’t do that in our babies’ room,” She sees Newt’s eyes flick hopefully to the door that connects to their room, and pipes up again before they get too distracted.

“I love it Newt, I love it so much,” Tina tells him honestly, kissing his cheek. ‘I love you, too,’ She thinks tenderly, and Newt smiles like he knows, before rubbing the back of his head humbly. 

“I’m glad you think so,” He murmurs, looking round at his handiwork, “I was going show you after I finished but…” Newt looks down in clear wonder at her stomach. It clearly juts out from her hips, and Tina knows that she now looks pregnant. Instead of just a small bump, easily disguised by heavy clothing, it is now firmly stuck out from her frame. 

Tina bite her lip. The fluttering’s, this room, the gorgeous looking crib. She catches Newt’s hand and holds it too her chest.

“This is real Newt,” Tina turns to him, her nerves pattering making her pulse race faster, “We’re going to be parents,” 

“Yes,” Newt replies his voice raw. He lets his thumb run down the middle of her chest. Tina’s heart starts dancing a staccato, as his other hand reaches up to cup her cheek, “A family Tina, we’re going to be a family,” Tina trembles as he leans into kiss her, with as much passion as he put into any of his drawings. She hums, leaning into him, or as much as she possibly can, but his hard stomach is not one to yield. Newt chuckles into her mouth as she whines pathetically, tugging at his collar. 

“I want to be with you,” Tina complains childishly, and Newt nods intently, though he’s still smiling. 

“Come on wife,” He leads her back into their room through the interconnecting door. Tina can remember a time when this tiny passageway was full of mystery and hesitation of two people who weren’t sure their feelings would be reciprocated. Now Newt, almost giggling with glee, plops her up on their shared bed, as she hastily tries to rid herself of her clothes. 

Newt is takes off his waistcoat in almost one full movement before flinging it to the floor. Tina admires his bared muscular frame, taking her sweet time in clipping off each button off her dress. She’d had to magically stretch this one, and she grins like the Cheshire cat as her large breasts spring free. Tina waits patiently for Newt too loop his pants down his legs, focusing on her breathing; his hot gaze taking her breath away. Her heady rise and fall of her chest causes a few more of her buttons to pop open, and she gasps as the cool winter air nips at her skin. 

“If you left me in this for a few weeks, I’d probably burst out of this thing,” Tina tugs at her dress matter-of-factly. Newt’s cheeks redden, and his jaw unhinges. He flops down on the bed, clad only is underwear and settles his chin on top of her belly. 

“Is it terrible of me to want to see that?” He asks his eyes dark and hooded. Tina raises her eyebrows at his obvious arousal. 

“Really?” She asks, pressing her thumb to the seam of his lips, “That really gets you going?” Newt lets his teeth lightly scrape the pad of her skin in answer, and Tina feels stomach begin to melt. 

“Love, you get me going,” Newt replies, his voice red and raw, “But the image of you bursting free of your clothing,” He shakes his head, his fingers lightly caress her belly, his touch as light as a spider’s footsteps. Tina’s heart begins to pound at the thought of doing so. Staying in her old clothes forever, until they simply don’t fit anymore. She’d have to stay in their rooms till the birth at the risk of terrifying their servants. 

The buttons on her dress fall all the way down to the hem, and Tina raises her arms up to pull her sleeves from her arms as Newt pulls the fabric from her body. All the underclothes she’s wearing is a short slip, made even shorter by her now engorged stomach. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Newt breaths amorously. He dangles over her invitingly, and Tina tries her best to lean up to catch his lips. He dodges her embrace however, seemingly content in just taking her in. 

“I want this to be about you,” Newt mumbles, his hands resting on her thighs, “The mother of my children deserves the pleasures of the world,” Tina nods serenely, brushing her fingers lovingly over his fringe just before his head ducks under her remaining clothing. 

Newt’s hot breath blows softly over her core as he nips the top of her thigh. Tina’s toes curl as he noses her sex gently, teasing her as he loves to do. 

“Newt, I swear,” Tina stutters, and his answering chuckle causes her to whine as it seemingly vibrates all the way through her. Thankfully for her patience, sooner rather than later Newt begins his assault. His hands are firm on her thighs, keeping her in place as she squirms. Tina sighs, helpless, as the increased weight round her stomach truly prevents her from doing anything but take what he gives. 

“Oh god, Mercy, Jesus Christ,” Tina moans deep her throat as he suckles at her relentlessly, inclining her body, as much as possible to give him better access. Newt abruptly leans away. Tina dazedly stares down at him as he grins roguishly, his lips damp. 

“Was that blasphemy I heard?” He asks her innocently. Tina growls pulling him upwards violently. Newt’s face is a picture as he almost collapses on top of her, placing his arms out just in time. 

“Kiss me you bastard,” Tina orders sharply. Newt’s eyes drop immediately to her lips. 

“Yes ma’am,” Newt nods breathlessly, quick to follow instructions. Tina tastes herself on his tongue, and she groans at the knowledge. Newt nibbles at her bottom lip, his fingers quickly replacing where his tongue just was. His coarse thumb frigs her effortlessly, and Tina’s body clenches at the familiar tightening in her stomach. Newt must sense it as well, his lips breaking free of her own to wrap round one of her sensitive nipples, pebbled hard against the constrains of her underthings. 

“Newt,” Tina cries as she falls apart in his hands. Newt grins, looking incredibly satisfied with himself. Her head collapses, a dead weight on the pillows. She smiles happily, as Newt kisses a lazy line up her throat. His own arousal presses invitingly against her thigh and Tina gropes for it shamelessly, giggling as he chokes out her name. 

“Your turn?” She cocks her head to one side suggestively. There’s a pause. Then a hasty rustle of fabric as Newt finally sheds himself of his last item of clothing. 

“Our turn,” Newt promises her thickly, tossing his own underclothes away before burying his face in her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	19. Baby names and bad news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's fifth month of pregnancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> I finally did it! I've updated in less than a week (Whoo!) Anyway hope everyone enjoys...Things start to go downhill here but, the first part is still fluff. 
> 
> Disclaimer- The second half of the chapter contains some information that some people might find sensitive. Don't read this if it effects you negatively in any way. 
> 
> Big shout out to Oceanicflights for betaing!

“What do you think about names?” Tina calls from their bed, her nose in a rather bulbous book. 

Newt shakes off one sleeve of his dress shirt, shivering in the crisp night air. It may have turned to Spring, but only just so, and drifts are still deep, the castle still icy. He mindlessly rids himself of the rest of his clothes, more focused on the task at hand than his wife’s question. 

“For the bowtruckles?” Newt replies thoughtlessly, ripping open the bed covers to jump in with her, “I’ve already picked them love,” He ducks Tina goes to swat him with the hardcover. Something deftly called, ‘Most Popular Names in English History’. 

“For the babies,” Tina rolls her eyes in a loving manner, before going back to her reading. She picks up her wand with soft fingers to line out something on the yellowish pages. Newt leans over her shoulder to find a blackened mark over the name ‘Beowulf’.

“I don’t mind Beowulf,” Newt says conversationally. He chuckles as she goes to hit him again, quickly hiding under the covers to prevent another attack. 

“Be serious Newt!” Tina whines, and he hears a loud thud which could be a door closing but is most likely the monstrosity of the novel, “We have to start thinking about these things,” 

Newt wiggles out from under his hiding place. His muscles burn as he too picks up the book. Tina smiles at him until he practically throws it with a large thud to land on his bedside table. Her scowl is as deep as her discontent at his arm he throws around her. Tina tries to shrug him off, but Newt snuggles into her firmly, mixing his cold legs with her toasty ones. 

“Love we don’t know what the gender is,” Newt kisses her upper arm, looking lovingly down to her large belly. Almost six months on and she’s never been as big, or as beautiful,  
“And if it’s twins then we’re equally in trouble,” Tina huffs childishly.

“Not if we think of enough names,” She argues back, playfully shoving him away, “I don’t want to be calling them ‘bean 1’ and ‘bean 2’ until we finally think of some,” Her smooth long fingers move in soft twirls on her stretched skin. Her salamander eyes shine anxiously down at him and Newt sighs, defeated. He can never say no to her. 

“What names do you like then?” Newt asks her sweetly and in clear delight Tina beams at him. 

“I thought of a few girl ones,” She tells him, settling her hands on top of stomach. Newt nods silently, just happy to listen. He honestly doesn’t mind what his children are called as long as they're happy and healthy. He knows from his creature’s experiences the perils that come with child birth. 

“Elsie, Jane, Mary even,” Tina stares at him expectantly, clearly anxious for his opinion. Newt carefully makes sure his negative feelings bubbling in his stomach don’t make their way to his face. Tina though, as is her way, notices of course and presses the issue with a single look. 

“It’s just,” Newt scratches the back on his head, “I had a niffler called Elise, and she stole my mother’s tiara which earned me quite a few lashings. And Jane was a truly horrendous hippogriff, the worse temper, I’ve still got the scars and-“ 

“Yes, yes I get the point,” Tina rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Her bump is now big enough that she can rest her forearms neatly on top, “But Newt we can’t forgo every name because of some unruly creature,” 

“Hmm,” Newt hums in vague agreement, fingering the large dent in his chest. His most nasty wound still aches when it rains, “But I’m vetoing Stephen,” 

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina cries, burying her head in his shoulder, with the guise of hopelessness. 

“What about Credence?” Newt questions, knowing his wife still thinks about her old friend quite often. Tina looks up at him strangely before shaking his head. 

“I can’t name them after him,” She says firmly, nudging his shoulder, “Credence isn’t dead, he’s just,” Newt winces as she trails off sadly. On Grindelwalds’ side. 

“Plus, I don’t think I’d want a child name Credence,” Tina sounds as though she’s forcing the smile into her voice, “He was always a flighty child, he’d disappear with a flap of a wing and turn up three days later with no reasonable story,” She shakes her head looking upset. 

“Perhaps we could try something out of history,” Newt says quickly, wanting smile back on her face. 

“If you say Gilgamesh, I will hex you,” Tina promises with a steely gaze. Newt holds up his hands in submission. He’s seen her hex someone before. It wasn’t pretty. His wife has bite. 

“I was thinking more English,” Newt corrects hastily, warily eyeing off her wand that sits on her bedside “The knights of the round table perhaps? Percival? Lancelot, Arthur?” 

Tina sits back on the pillows, looking stern. Newt smiles lovingly. That’s her thinking face. 

“I like Arthur,” She says slowly, nodding slightly, “Arthur Scamander.” Tina’s clasps her hands together, her face breaking out with joy. Newt takes a deep breath in. That does sound right. His son, Arthur. Master Arthur. The Scamanders: Arthur, Newt and Tina. 

“Arthur Scamander,” Newt repeats, smiling. A good, strong name. For what will be a good, strong babe. The name of a king. He can think of nothing better for a child of his darling Porpentina; his gorgeous English rose. Tina’s lips brush against his jaw and they smile at each other. Her dark eyes sparkle, and they know without speaking that that’s what their son will be called. 

“But what if it’s twins?” Tina asks, Newt shrugs. 

“Guinevere?” He grins teasingly. Tina shudders, miming vomiting, before cuddling her belly to her firmly.

“Newt I am not naming my twins Arthur and Guinevere,” She assures him sharply, waggling a firm finger in front of his nose, “That has connotations I’m am heartily abhorred by,” Newt agrees quickly; though he can’t help but like the name. Guinevere. Eve. Eve Scamander. He can already see the dark ringlets bobbing from her head, as she asks her mother a question. 

“Next time?” Newt asks his wife hopefully, “If we ever have a girl?” Tina’s eyes turn bright, and he mouth falls open. Newt looks down abashed, his lips trembling. They are having these children because of what Tina announced out of anger after all. Was it too much to assume that she would want to have more children with him? That she’s come to want family with him, just as much as he has with her?

A warm hand encloses around his own. Newt looks up tentatively. Tina’s eyes are burning with the strength of a bonfire. He gets entrapped by the glow, and beams at her nod.

“Next time,” Tina says softly. Newt lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and bobs down to kiss her. Their lips slide together gently, consolidating the future with a simple caress. 

“We need another name,” Newt murmurs softly as they break apart. She nods, but falls limply into him instead, yawning widely. He’s about to suggest they go to sleep, to discuss it in the morning, when Tina sits up suddenly, looking rather elated. 

“What?” Newt asks her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Tina warns, though she’s still smiling, “I mean you say it all the time,” 

“I promise I won’t think so,” Newt says, wondering what on earth she could mean. You say it all the time? He’s drawing a thick line at naming their child ‘bugger’.

“Merlin,” Tina says, a stupid smile on her face, “Merlin Scamander,” 

“Arthur and Merlin…” Newt murmurs, and Tina beams up at him, her eyes flicking in the soft candlelight. He rests his head firmly against her forehead. His hands fan out over her large bump, and Tina sighs sweetly as Newt strokes the taunt skin. 

But, wait, is that? Newt leans back so fast his neck cracks. Eyes blown so wide they sting at the corners; he leaps gracefully over Tina’s thighs to study her belly seriously. 

“Did you?” Tina asks him tearfully, and he slushes her quickly, wanting to concentrate. The silence grows large around them and for a moment Newt thinks he’s imagined it. 

Then one of the beans kicks gently against his hand. 

“Merlin!” Newt exclaims, shuffling down so he can gaze properly at the slight rise and falls. A tiny bump pressed up from Tina’s lower belly, a tiny hand wanting to say hello. Tina is giggling happily, and Newt looks up at her, utterly enraptured. 

“Our babies Tina,” He lets his fingers skin the sides of her skin, before pressing a wet kiss to her ever growing belly, “You’re taking such good care of them, god you’re magnificent,” 

And she is too, Newt ruminates as he reaches up to kiss her soundly. A most perfect creature if he does say so himself. Keeping their children safe and warm; hardly every complaining, even though he knows her ankles and back often throb with pain. Newt rumbles in to her neck, as Tina’s eager hands reach for his waistband. 

“Love,” Newt smiles wryly, letting Tina push him clumsily into the mattress, “Are you sure this is the way you want us to celebrate?” She raises her eyebrows up at him, brushing down her night gown primly. 

“We’ll just got to sleep then, will we?” Tina asks delicately, shifting on his lap. Newt groans; he can feel how warm and wet she is. He rucks her skirts back up himself. 

“Sleep…sleep can wait,” Newt replies breathlessly, and Tina grins evilly, leaning her full weight on his chest. Newt feels the air rush out of his lungs, and he runts helplessly up into her. Merlin, she drives him crazy. His oxygen deprived hands reach up to grab a piece of her; hopefully her delicious breasts that have grown magnificently over the months. 

“Good,” Tina remarks easily, and Newt moans, almost painfully aroused. 

Knock. 

Tina rolls her eyes, as their bedroom door vibrates. Newt huffs out a sharp, frustrated breath. 

“Not now Dougal,” Newt grits out through clenched teeth, as Tina rakes her fingernails lightly over the panes of his stomach. He glares fiercely up at her, and she sticks out her tongue, though he can’t help but notice her breathing is quite staggered. 

“Sir, it’s quite important,” Dougal’s normally self-composed voice is strained through the door, “It’s your sister- it seems she’s in labour,” 

“Oh!” Tina exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly. She hefts herself off him eagerly, all previous passion forgotten and walks in her almost waddle towards the door.   
Newt grins from the sheets, ecstatic for Leta and Theseus, willing his libido to calm itself so he too can safely get up. 

Dougal, in his every ending understanding, manages to pass a small note through to Tina, seemingly without even opening the door. Newt watches as Tina rips open the letter with reckless abandon. However, the look on her face when she looks up is enough to make his blood run cold. Tina’s eyes are scared and wet and she seems to be fighting to keep her mouth from trembling. 

“What’s happened?” Newt asks her tersely. Tina refuses to reply, and she makes her way over to him, all while caressing her bump shakily. Newt swallows drily, as the note is pressed silently into his hands. 

Dear Newt and Tina,

Leta’s screaming, I can barely think. The midwives think she may die. I can’t bare…

Please come,

Theseus.

Newt blinks very rapidly, trying his best not to cry. Leta? Die? He can still remember seeing her for the first time, peering out from his late mother’s skirts to stare at a small girl, with cute dark curls, smiling sweetly at him. How can that girl, his oldest friend, his brother’s wife, his sister, be on her death bed? And what about their child? His brothers note falls crumpled from his hand and flutters slowly to the floor. 

Tina collapses heavily beside him, and pulls him into a warm hug. Newt clutches at her desperately, listening frantically for her breath on his ear, the short thumps of their child keeping him from falling to desolation. He had been more worried about war- fought with fire and swords. Newt had not considered this...had never wanted to believe it would happen. But it can. And it has. Tina’s fingers are digging hard enough in his shoulder to draw blood. 

“We have to go,” She says firmly, more of an order than a statement. Newt nods in agreement, his tongue still too shock filled to speak. Tina kisses his head, hard. But then she releases herself, padding slowly round the room, waving her wand. Newt watches dully as two small cases quickly fill with their clothes.

“Should I call for the horses?” Tina asks coldly, though he knows she’s just trying to keep her true emotions until control. He nods, smiling grimly, glad that one of them his keeping the appearance of being stable. 

He himself falls off the bed shakily, knowing he’s going to have to check he has enough stores for the creatures. The floor is even more freezing to the touch than it was before. Newt shivers and squints out the window. Snow paints the window frame. He can practically see the large flat flakes falling in sheets to the ground, covering it in a dangerous blanket. 

Newt turns back to Tina, who’s currently struggling to fit a boot over her enlarged ankles. Her face is red with exertion as she tries to navigate round her hefty bump. Their babies, their beans, Arthur and Merlin. Is he about to let her go off to freeze in the snow? A tiny anxious voice shouts loudly in his brain- Theseus and Leta trekked through the cold to get to them, and now Leta may die, her and her baby lost. 

“No!” Newt shouts out alarmed, as Tina goes to open the door, “you can’t go!” He can still feel his children moving beneath his fingertips. He flies over, and shuts the door in her face, keeping her firmly safe in their bedroom. Tina gapes at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then a flash of rage flits across her face, her eyes become as hard as steel. 

“Excuse me?” Tina asks him dangerously. Her hands hard on her hips, and her fury filled determination would usually enough to make Newt stand aside. But now their children hang between them. 

“I can’t let you go Tina,” Newt presses her ardently, “Three days of hard riding, in roads logged with snow? What if you fall? What if you slip?” He tries to grab her hands, but Tina steps backwards, her cheeks red with rage. 

“What do you expect me to do Newt?!” She cries out, wild with frustration. Her long hair blows around her like wildfire, and each word hits Newt in the face with a hot blast, “I can’t apparate, I can’t floo- not unless I want to go into labour too,” They both wince, and one of Tina’s hands slips down to her stomach. Newt desperately wants to hold their children too, but he forces himself to stay firm. He’d rather have her angry with him, than her dead in the snow. 

“Just…just stay here Tina,” Newt speaks softly, his voice thready with fear. He avoids Tina’s incredulous gaze, “I’ll go and I’ll stay as long as necessary, you can join us when the weather clears,” His wife is staring at him like she did on their first night after their wedding- as if he’s a stranger to her. 

“And when will that be?” Tina hisses coolly, her eyes snake like slits, “When I’m too big to move? They’re my family too, just as much as yours Newt, Leta’s my sister and I won’t see her suffer alone,” Newt feels his own anger bubble to the surface. For a strange moment his own tongue is as sharp as a whip. 

“And you’re my wife!” Newt yells, spitting in his fervour, “And you’re carrying our children, god Tina I want you safe, I want you all safe, I don’t want-” His fist falls hard against the blue stone wall beside them. Tina jumps, shocked, her gaze dropping to the floor. Newt shuts his eyes, his rage ebbing out of him as swift as it came. The painful throb in his hand, erupts tenfold. Tina’s head is still bowed, and Newt takes a shamefaced step back from her, his lips back to trembling. 

“I’m so sorry Tina,” He shakes his head, his head swimming in guilt, “I didn’t mean to yell…it won’t happen again,” Newt takes a deep breath, and tries his best not to cry. 

Tina lets out a soft long whine, before rushing to him. Newt quickly finds himself with an armful of his wife and he wraps himself gratefully in her arms, as she shudders in his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” Tina sniffs, as he cradles her stomach tenderly, “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad,” 

“I’ve never doubted you not getting mad love,” Newt murmurs honestly, and she giggles wetly, placing a soft apologetic kiss to his chin. They cling to each together fiercely, Tina’s bump pressing firmly against Newt’s skin. It truly is getting massive. He wouldn’t even suggest them using broomsticks, in case her new sense of balance tips her off. One of his children thumps again, and Newt smiles down; he’ll never get used to that. It’s like her belly is an egg and they are the two baby birds, safely inside. A sudden wave of sadness rushes over him. Poor Leta...her egg is cracked. 

“What are we going to do?” Tina asks him, sighing in a defeated manner, “I want to go Newt, I couldn’t stand it if you went without me,” 

“I don’t know…” Newt hugs her tight, wracking his brains desperately for a solution. One, of course, has entered his brain, but he keeps on trying to butt it back. He doesn’t want to voice it. But the more he thinks about it he can’t see another way. Tina is five months pregnant. It’s icy cold outside. Can’t apparate, can’t floo, can’t even broom. If she has to wait longer, it may be too late for her to move. And one or both of them has to go. Theseus can’t be in Hogwarts alone, not if Leta... T

hey have to leave, they have to get there fast, and they both have to go. 

“Rodger,” Newt whispers under his breath, and he can see Tina’s eyes widening. 

“Newt,” She says brokenly, cupping his cheek with the warm palm of one hand, “You don’t have to do that, I can just take a litter or something,” Newt smiles tightly, but shakes his head. 

“A litter is colder than a horse, and will take three times longer,” He presses a kiss to the top of her head with trembling lips, “And what better way would there be to keep warm, than with dragon fire?” His joke sounds weak even to his own ears. Tina chuckles gingerly, but her fingers are tense on his skin. 

“Sweetheart, I’d rather stay than do something you were uncomfortable with,” Tina says softly, and Newt nods, knowing that she means it. Knowing that she’d get back in to bed, while he raced away on Bunty to see his grieving family. But also that he’d never forgive himself if they didn’t go together. What if something goes wrong with Tina’s pregnancy while he’s away? What if Leta dies and he doesn’t have Tina to lean on? Yes, flying a welsh green dragon into Hogwart’s grounds is risky and downright dangerous. And it also leaves Rodger way closer to Grindelwald than he feels comfortable with. 

But it has to be done. For Leta. For Theseus. For Tina. 

Newt drops down to kiss Tina gently, which she reciprocates softly. 

“I’m fine with it,” He murmurs, “I promise,” 

“If you sure,” Tina says still a little cautiously, and Newt tries his best to smile- a hard feat under the circumstances. 

“I’m sure,” Newt replies, and he almost believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	20. The one that has cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leta and Tina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,  
> This chapter is very sad. It also contains some subjects that may be traumatic for some people along the lines of miscarriage. Don't read if you don't want to.
> 
> Big thanks to Oceanicflights for betaing

Tina walks Newt through Hogwart’s silted halls. Her husband was in command on the entire ride over, but after landing Rodger neatly into the grounds and safety helping her off…he’s slowly gotten smaller, quieter, dragging his heels through the cold castle. Tina can’t blame him; she feels exactly the same. But, determined to be the strong one, she coaxes him up the many stairwells to get to their families’ part of the fortress. They’re here for Leta and Theseus, and their child. God the child. Tina does her best to swallow down her emotions, placing her arm around Newt’s waist. He slips his own around her own thankfully, and gives her a short, hard kiss.

A crowd of people have congregated outside their apartments. The men all have either a cigarette or a drink in hand, many of the woman are crying. Even the children are subdued; sat silently, thumbs in mouth, watching the adults with morbid fascination. Out of all of them, only the Scamander twins seem to understand what’s happening. Katherine is sobbing in Isabella’s arms. Isabella is as stoned faced as Tina herself can remember being when her own mother died, and each sharp cry from Katherine is like a sword slashing over her heart.

“What’s happened?” Newt asks the nearest person, his voice hoarse with fear. His fingers are tight around Tina’s hip. Every now and again they move, and he knows exactly what he’s checking for. Tina’s doing it herself. To make sure their children are still alive and well.

“Lady Scamander is in labour,” An older woman replies, her eyes trailed on the floor, “They don’t think she’ll make it,” She wraps her arms around herself, refusing to look at the elephant in the room.

A pair of double doors stands alone. There almost seems to be an invisible line no one is willing to cross, and no one is willing to be near the entrance way to tragedy. Tina stares at Newt, willing to take his lead. She is a Scamander, but a new one. He’s known Theseus and Leta practically all his life. Newt’s adam apple bobs, and he takes one step, then another, but them pauses, the line in his jaw tense. Tina kisses his shoulder.

“Take as long as you need,” She murmurs truthfully.

“Thanks love,” Newt croaks back, squeezing her back tightly. Tina won’t be surprised if there’s bruises embedded into her skin after tonight; purple stains of misery.

Eventually they make it through the doors to come into a harrowing hallway. There are three doors; one pink one that is decorated with childish flowers. One painted blue, which looks suspiciously dusty as if it hasn’t been opened in a while. And one white, with a gold frame in which a defeated looking man sits slumped in front of.

Theseus has his head in his hands. Newt leaves Tina’s side with a wet kiss on her cheek to put his arms around his brother. Her husband’s face is pale, his eyes shining as Theseus sobs into his stomach. Tina cannot blame them as Leta lets out a high pitched scream, that causes both men to shudder. Tina feels warm and cold all at once, and her bottom lip wobbles. She places a warm hand across her abdomen. Her baby kicks hard, and for the first time she feels it beneath her fingers. Alive. A strange guilty feeling fills her.

“I will go see her,” Tina says firmly, her fear and sorrow making sound almost cold. She knows she does when Theseus looks up, his eyes hard and ungrateful. Newt presses a kiss to his brother’s forehead and nods at her grimly. Tina nods shakily back, before walking uneasily to the door. She does not want to see the woman who smiled, who called her sister, with who she discussed nursery plans with on the edge of death. But what kind of sister would she be if she didn’t stand by Leta in her time of need? Tina grits her teeth, hard, and opens the door, shutting it tight behind her.

An army of women crowd around an enormous bed. Three are at the foot of the bed, looking uneasily under Leta’s skirts. One is by Leta’s side, wiping her forehead with wet cloths. Leta, Tina has never seen her look so tiny before. Normally this slight woman engulfs a room, making Tina feel small in comparison despite her height. Now…now the woman is a girl, clutching at her belly madly. Great fat tears roll down her cheeks, and she cries out once again in pain before lying back on her pillows defeated.

Tina rushes to her side, and takes her hand in hers. It is uncomfortably warm, like a stone sitting outside in the sunshine. Leta presses up against her deliriously, and Tina’s chest is immediately drenched from the sweat draining from her pores. Tina slicks back her long brown locks and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“My lady,” The midwife admonishes her harshly, with a pointed look down at her belly, “You should not be here,” Leta’s fingers are clasping weakly in her own and she’s groaning low in her chest. Tina clutches her tighter to her.

“Try to kick me out,” She glares fiercely to the indignant witch, “I dare you,” The lady turns away, glowering. Tina rolls her eyes and prays to all the gods a woman like that won’t be by her side when her time comes.

A girl, one of Leta’s ladies, passes her a swollen cloth and Tina smooths it generously against Leta’s neck. The cool water almost sizzles against her burning skin. The lady shudders then turns away. Tina grabs her hand and she reluctantly looks back. Her eyes are red and round and her hands are trembling.

“What’s your name?” Tina asks her firmly, shaking her as she cries instead of answering.

“Emilia,” She stutters, her blond hair falls in weak curls round her face. Tina nods, feigning confidence, hoping to pump some strength into her.

“What happened Emilia?” Tina asks her quietly, trying her best not to cry as Leta lets out another wail.

“We were sewing when her waters broke,” Emilia speaks simply, as if she was recounting, not something she’d seen herself, “It was…not normal, not just red, but also green and black,” Tina winces, as her eyes burn with misery. ‘Oh god, no,’ She runs the sodden cloth again over Leta’s forehead.

“The baby was born so easily, it would’ve otherwise been a miracle,” Emilia speaks tearfully, “His lips were blue, and the cord was tied around his neck,” The girl collapses against the wall sobbing pitifully. Tina feels her heart miss a beat. The babies kick within her, as if feeling her anxiety.

“Dead?” She asks faintly, “A baby? We were told she had not yet given birth?” Leta moans terribly and she too begins to cry. Tina rocks her as if she were a child.

One of the midwife’s scoffs; the same one who had told her off before. The others shoot her annoyed looks, but remain silent.

“She must’ve known, silly girl,” She rude midwife mutters scathingly, “It doesn’t do to hold on to hope, not with matters like this,”

“The baby was dead, and now a piece of the leftovers is stuck inside of her,” Another Midwife chides her fellow, her eyes soft and sympathetic, “If we do not get it out, she will die of the sweat,” Tina looks down horrified to where Leta’s clothes are pressed, drenched, against her steaming skin.

“Then get it out!” Tina cries fervently, unable to conceive why they’re all standing round not doing anything. The silence in the room is almost awkward. Tina feels her nerves begin to snap.

“Well!” She screams, and Leta whines, mumbling Theseus and her girl’s names. She doesn’t sound at all like herself, and Tina’s foot jingles, just managing not to run out of the room.

“She’s refusing to push, Mrs Scamander,” The rude midwife states, her tone frozen. Tina looks down at Leta who’s withering in her sheets. The younger Mrs Scamander sits down next to her, and props the elder one up on her pillow. Tina squeezes Leta’s collarbone harshly, and her eyes seem to focus on her, though Tina can tell they’re wavering at the edges.

“Listen to me Leta,” Tina urges her fiercely, “You’ve got to push,” Leta shakes in dissent, looking like a rag doll, her head floppy from side to side. Her chin hits her chest. Tina forces it up again with two fingers. Tears roll down Leta’s cheeks, and she can hear them sizzling on her burning skin.

“I’ve failed him, I promised I would give him another child,” Leta’s voice cracks, and Tina’s heart breaks.

“Theseus loves you Leta,” Tina pushes her hair back behind her ears, clearing her forehead of stray strands, “He’s a mess,” Leta shakes her head again. It could’ve meant I don’t care, I don’t understand, or even I can’t hear you.

“I’m a terrible wife,” Leta cries, her hands wringing at the blankets, her legs wriggling. The sharp tang of iron hits Tina’s nostrils and she tries her best not to be afraid. Fear kills. Newt wouldn’t panic. Just breath Tina, in through your nose out through your mouth.

“Don’t be stupid,” Tina knows she’s probably being harsh, but she’s not letting this woman, her sister, die in her arms, “Anyone with two eyes can see how much you care about each other,” Leta lets out a deranged laugh, before falling silent again. She brings her hand up to her lips and presses a trembling kiss to the ring that knights her finger. Her lips are dry and are cracking at the edges.

“I love him so much Tina,” Leta falls against her arm helplessly, and Tina catches her carefully “I don’t want to lose him,”

“You won’t,” Tina does her best to promise her, “But don’t let him lose you,” Leta’s eyes brim with tears. Her thumb wipes the corner of her eyes the best she can. Her face flicks over with emotions, like pages of a book when it’s turned through.

“Will you push?” Tina asks her desperately. The minute it takes Leta to reply is the longest of Tina’s life. Is can feel how clammy her skin is, how pale it is when usually it shines. Leta’s tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“I’ll try,” She promises in a small voice.

Tina looks up to the midwifes with expectant hope in her eyes. The stern one nods her way in a gratified manner. The other two gather around her like baby birds, ready to take orders. Tina too awaits instruction- willing to do everything, anything. The midwife senses her need.

“Support her arms please, Lady Scamander,” She gives a curt nod, and Tina takes Leta under her armpits, making sure she stays upright, “And girls, lift her legs up,” The other midwives crowd around, and place her legs up bended; as if she were about to give birth again.

“Push,” The midwifes urge her, all three of them bustling, trying to get the best look under her skirts. Leta grits her teeth. Tina can feel the slightest of tension in her arms as she uses her as a leverage. But it’s not enough, and she flops back whining helplessly.

“Push Leta, harder” Tina murmurs in her ear, her voice straining. Leta nods, seemingly gathering her strength. She tries again, and this time something changes. Tina can tell by the tension in the air, the concentration on the midwives’ faces.

“That’s it, almost there,” The head one encourages, still firm in her manner and voice. Tina can’t help but realise how stabilising her presence is in a moment like this.

A bloodied mess tumbles out and onto the bedsheets. One of the midwives claps her hands together, even going so far as to smile. Tina kisses Leta’s forehead, just before the woman collapses back onto the bedsheets, her fingers uncurled weakly on the mattress. Thankful tears find their way to Tina’s cheeks, and she dabs at them with her sweat soaked sleeves. Leta’s breathing like she’s run a marathon. Her cheeks are still a burning red. Tina wets a towel again with freezing cold water from the tip of her wand and places it carefully on the back of her neck.

“Will she be alright?” Tina asks quickly, wanting to make sure before she collapses into relief.

“Probably,” The stern midwife shrugs, before turning away to wash he blood soaked hands. Tina swallows down her equally rude reply to turn to Emilia who has slid down to the ground.

“Emilia, go out and tell Theseus his wife is not going to die,” Emilia looks up, her eyes look sore and puffy. Her mouth opens and no noise comes out. She makes no move to get up, “Go!” Tina shouts, and she seems to come to herself and quickly flees the room.

“I don’t want to live,” Leta presses her thighs together, hiding her head in her palms, “He’s dead,” Tina gasps, and rocks her arm viciously. Her sister doesn’t move, just lets herself be shoved. Something burns deep in Tina’s throat; she thinks it might be vomit.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Tina cries out messily. Snot is running from her nose, but she forgoes it, leaving all her attention to this shell of a woman, “Theseus needs you, Isabella and Katherine need you, Mercy Lewis, Newt and I need you,” Leta makes no move to tell her she’s heard her. Even the midwives trying to dab between her legs doesn’t make her cringe. Tina begins to shake with barely suppressed rage.

“I forbid you to die Leta, do you hear me?” Tina orders her fiercely; sounding cruel even to her own ears. Leta removes her hands, and glares at her furiously. The women stare at each other, each willing each other to bend. Thankfully Leta does first, her anger crumbling into despair, her hands falling in weak fists on her chest.

“Okay,” She says tonelessly. Tina takes it. For now. She places the back on her hand on Leta’s forehead. Her fever is coming down. Slowly. But none the less, she doesn’t think she’s in danger anymore. One midwife, clearly think along the same lines ,waves her wand over her form.

“She’ll live,” She informs Tina with a ragged smile, before teetering off to join her colleagues, looking dead on her feet.

The midwifes are busy with something in the corner. Tina can dimly see a bundle being passed round, measurements being taking, prayers being made. One of them carefully takes a small towel and delicately wipes off some dark red sludge. Tina turns away to where Leta lies heartbroken on the sheets, sobbing her eyes out. Tina sits delicately beside her, making sure to tactfully turn her bump in the opposite direction.

“Do you want to see?” Tina asks, her voice threadbare. Leta’s weak fingers wrap around her forearm, her dark eyes trembling with pain. She nods once.

“Yes,” Leta rasps, her lips crackling, “Please,” Tina smiles weakly, placing her hand carefully over her sister-in-law’s. Leta’s lips twitch. Then she shuts her eyes, her head falling with a hard thud on her pillowcase. Tears roll down her cheeks, and pooling in her collarbones.

“Bring him here,” Tina says sharply to the midwifes. One of them opens her mouth to speak, “Now!” She commands, and they incline their head in deference. They bring him over, silently, as Tina helps a limp Leta to sit up a little.

“My Lady, my lady,” The stern one nods at them both, before passing holding out the babe. Leta takes him with a small whine. Tina tells herself not to look.

He’s so tiny, his fingers barely bigger than the petals of a daisy. His eyes are closed, his veins visible. His lips are blue. Leta runs a soft finger over his forehead. The babe has been wrapped in the blanket she made for him, the pictures vibrant to the child’s almost translucent skin.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Leta says smiling; touching his tiny ears, his nose. Tina wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

“He’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen,” Tina replies quietly. Leta nods, like her head is on a broken hinge. Up and down, up and down.

“I love you darling,” Leta announces to her boy’s deaf ears, “Mummy and Daddy love you so much, never forget it okay?” She begins to tremble. Tina puts her arm around her shoulders as she once again begins to cry, rocking her baby gently from side to side, as if putting him to sleep.

“Don’t forget, I’m so sorry, god, don’t forget,” Leta sobs, burying her nose to his cold little cheek. Tina cries as well, pressing her face into Leta’s hair. They stay like that for a while, sobbing together, united in loss. Tina can feel her children moving within her, and that makes her cry harder. Why is the world so fucking unfair? For her to have two alive, and Leta one dead?

“We’ll leave you be,” A voice pipes up. The other two midwives’ faces’ have collapsed into grief, but the firm one has stayed strong. She looks between the two Scamander’s with a unyielding type of empathy, which is always truth, always hard to hear, “Should we inform your husbands?” Tina stays silent. This is not a decision she is able to make. Leta makes a tiny sound in the back of her throat. She kisses her son’s forehead gently, before looking up.

“Bring him in,” Leta agrees, turning her chin at the women before looking straight back down again, enraptured by her precious bundle. The ladies leave, and Tina wiggles herself out of the bed. She has no doubt Theseus will want to take her spot, and she wants- needs- Newt right now.

Theseus practically falls through the door, his fingers ripping at the door frame. His eyes are mad looking, and they wildly search the room, falling on his wife. He sees the child in Leta’s arms and for a moment his face widens in elation. Then Leta shakes her head.

“Oh darling,” Theseus’s shoulders fall forward. Tina watches as he ties his trembling fingers behind his back, before stumbling towards her.

“I’m sorry,” Leta looks up at him, stricken. Theseus silently shakes his head, sitting down beside her to kiss her softly.

“Can I say hello?” He asks her numbly. Leta passes him his son wordlessly, and Theseus looks down at him, a forced jut in his jaw. Tina can tell he’s just preventing himself from crying. Leta clearly can too, and she buries her head in his shoulder.

“’ello lad,” Theseus says tightly. One of his fingers curls around his babies limp hand, “aren’t you just fine,” Leta shudders into his neck, holding on to him with an iron grip.

Tina stands caught, tears flooding down her cheeks, as Theseus too begins to sob, clutching his son to his chest hopelessly.

“Tina,” Newt whispers, and two strong hands wrap around her chest.

“Newt,” Tina cries, hugging him tight to her. Warm lips press to the side of her head. Newt’s eyes are brimming over with tears, and they rock together, unable to speak. Because truly, what can one say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think


	21. A ravens writing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter and a revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Sorry it's been a while, but heres the next chapter.   
> Hope everyone enjoys

Dearest Tina,

It’s me. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you before, but he wouldn’t let me. But I had to, had to get out now. I won’t say more in case he catches me, but just know I’m heading north. I’m going to get there, have to get there before the army. 

Please get ready. He’s coming,  
Love C. 

Tina’s hands shake as she holds the crusty note in her fingertips. A dark ravens feather lies in her already dark skirts; they’re still all in mourning. Her finger traces the familiar hand writing, the half mooned ‘C’ written so hastily the ink has splattered. Credence. It’s Credence. 

“I knew it!” Tina exclaims, excited enough to not get anxious about his depressing message; although she has no doubt that will come. She can already feel the nervous energy ticking behind her brain. 

“What is it?” Newt asks her sharply, walking over to her briskly. Tina smiles steadily up at his wary eyes. He’s been like this ever since Leta’s heartbreaking birth a few weeks ago.

He was never one to hover, not before or after she became pregnant. But now Tina finds that whichever way she turns, she discovers her husband beside her. His warm hand on her hip, her shoulder, her thigh. Tina looks up at him from her spot in a lounge chair and holds out a hand for him to take. Newt does so, and leans down beside her legs, his hands enclosed on top of her knee. She runs her fingers gently through his hair, and his shoulders relax a quarter of an inch. 

“Newt I’m fine, we’re fine, I promise,” Tina passes him the note. Newt takes it cautiously. She watches with a wide smile on her face as he reads, but when he looks up he looks even more grim than before. There are dark circles under his eyes; he hasn’t been sleeping well. Tina has woken many a time in the night to find his fingers tracing her bump obsessively. 

“Credence is alive,” Tina announces softly, pointing at her brother’s love, “Isn’t that amazing?” Newt makes a brief noise of assent. She can see the way his eyes are lingering on the word army. Tina lays a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his cheek bones. She’s usually the one to worry, but now she’s the only one to smile. 

“Sweetheart,” Tina approaches tentatively, and Newt’s lips slip up weakly. He raises himself so they can kiss, which they do sweetly. 

“I’m sorry,” Newt apologises after they part. He looks down, looking older than his thirty years, “I know I’ve been a bit of a wet blanket…it’s just,” His hands lay on her stomach. They share a knowing look. It’s less than two months now. Will they be holding their children in their arms? 

“They’re going to be fine,” Tina promises forcefully, batting down her own worries wanting to see him smile. 

“I know,” Newt replies, but he doesn’t meet her eyes and Tina’s not sure if he means it. 

Tina gives a long sigh through her nose. She’s not sure her husband’s going to relax until the birth of their children. Perhaps showing him Credence’s letter wasn’t a good idea… Newt’s just going to be worried about the war now too. Tina knows instinctively she should be. But the babies have taken over her brain, and she can’t bear to think of them in any way but happy and safe. Neither can Newt and that’s why they’re still at Hogwarts. Rodger is still in the courtyard, generally scaring off witches and muggles alike. The babies will be born here; they’re not taking any second chances. 

“Would you come for a walk with me?” Tina smooths out her dress, and the raven feather falls to the floor. She smiles at it reminiscently. He always did have strange taste in his methods of letter delivery, “I’d like to see Queenie,” 

“Queenie?” Newt asks surprised, “Why?” His confusion is granted. Tina hasn’t particularly sort out her sister's company over these last few weeks. 

“I want to show her,” Tina shrugs, wrapping her fingers around her mother’s necklace that hangs around her neck, “Credence was her brother too,” 

They eventually find her in Leta and Theseus’s room with Jacob as they pay their respects. The children are respectfully absent, but Jacob is present and standing by his wife soberly. Queenie in comparison, looks like she’s just rolled out of bed and into a field of diamonds. She’s dressed from head to toe in black fabric of course, but glittering white diamonds hang at her ears, round her wrists. Tina japes at her sister’s attire. It’s not particularly offensive, but it is a far cry from everyone else’s plain drab dress. And worst of all, Queenie seems to have created a spectacular sort of necklace made of out a midnight black chain and one Tina’s own throwing knifes hanging off the end of it. It bounces perilously round her sister’s hips, and Tina can’t take her eyes off it.

“That’s mine,” She says blankly instead of greeting a feeble looking Leta, who’s still bedridden and Theseus who is bleary eyed with lack of sleep. Queenie picks up the blade and twirls it through her fingers instead of answering, and Tina watches with a small sense of dread singing in the back of her brain. Her sisters never been one for contact sport and she finds blood ‘distasteful’. Her choice of weapon is pen and paper, so why then does she need a tiny sword? 

“How are you feeling Leta?” Newt asks carefully, dispelling the tension between the two sisters for a moment. Leta nods in thanks, a weak smile on her lips. She turns to Theseus who squeezes her hand tightly. 

“A bit better, thanks Newt,” Leta replies, only sounding a little wobbly, “How about you Tina, is everything going…alright?” Tina places her hand self-consciously on her stomach. She has spent many a night with Leta over the past couple of weeks, and they’ve both practically poured their hearts out to each other. But despite the bond to two women have found, Tina still feels the guilty sting that pricks her. Newt’s fingers press into her bump protectively, and Theseus turns away his face carefully devoid of emotion. 

“I’m okay,” Tina replies as lightly as she can. But the awkward silence that lingers in the air like a bad smell is too much for her to bare,” Does anyone want a cup of tea?”   
There’s a resounding ‘yes’, and everyone seems to take pleasure in listing off their preferences. 

“Are you sure it’s not too much for you?” Newt asks cupping her cheek. He gets especially angsty after seeing Leta and Theseus. 

“I’m pregnant Newt,” Tina hopes she doesn’t sound too testy, “I’m not going to break over making a cup of tea,” He nods stiffly. She sighs before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek and Newt omits a reluctant smile before going to sit by his family. Jacob takes a seat next to Newt and opposite Theseus round Leta’s bed. Queenie however joins Tina by the tea pot in the corner on the room. Her sister’s nails graze the side of her stomach and she tries her best not to follow her instinct to stiffen. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tina says as kindly as she can. Queenie smiles, but there’s sourness behind the polite graze. Tina tries her best to ignore it.

“It’s about Credence,” Tina explains her eyes fixed carefully on the six cups she’s getting out, “He got in contact with me, he’s coming back up here, isn’t that brilliant?”   
She can’t help but smile at her sister then, her happiness a rare light in the rooms gloom. One of Queenie’s eyebrows is raised up imperiously. Tina feels her shift through her mind, and she waves her hands in the air as if that alone could stop the onslaught.

“Don’t read my mind,” She orders her briefly as the tea boil under the watchful gaze of her wand. Queenie doesn’t say a word, and Tina huffs, “Well isn’t it great?”

“It’s brilliant news Teenie,” Queenie replies through a tight lipped smile. But her sister’s eyes are somewhere else, far across the room watching something she can’t see. Tina swallows don’t a crass response and pours out the tea carefully.

“I’ll do the milk shall I?” Queenie asks, jumping in just as Tina was about to perilously squat down to reach for the pitcher. Tina thankfully lets her do it, one hand on her aching back. She really should sit soon, all that walking…

“It’s nice that we’re all back together,” Queenie says aimlessly, pouring the milk in with a loud dollop, “Especially like this,” She surveys the room genteelly her blue eyes glinting. 

“Especially…like this?” Tina asks non too subtly confused. What does that even mean? 

“I mean isn’t it nice that this is going to be our little family,” Queenie clucks her tongue, patting her bulging stomach deliberately, “Us, our children, and these two little ones…nice and complete,” Tina watches as her sister knocks her head pointedly in Leta’s direction, a small smile hanging round her mouth like a macabre noose. Tina gapes as her mind slowly clicks over to what her sister is implying. It brings the burning tang of vomit up her throat, and her eye flash with anger.

“Excuse me?” Tina says loudly, to meet Queenie’s slowly fading smug face. She can feel the entire room turn with her. Even Leta has sat up a little to stare at the glowering sisters. Queenie has stuck out her chin, but Tina does angry better than her; she always has. 

“What?” Queenie asks abrasively. She’s twisting the knife casually through her fingers, though there’s steel in her eyes, “Is it wrong to think that I’d rather have my sister’s babies survive- rather than my opponents?” Tina can practically hear Theseus’s fist clench. Her own face twists into one of extreme distaste. Leta herself lets out a soft yelp and buries her face in her hands, and Newt puts his arm round her as Theseus seems frozen in fury. 

“Queenie that’s enough,” Jacob tells her. For once there’s a rare tone of warning in his voice. His wife however merely shrugs, and surveys the room as if she had merely commented on the weather

“It was foretold,” Queenie says, smartly brushing down the dark velvet of her dress, “It was for the greater good,” 

The greater good.

Grindlewald’s catch phrase. Tina’s world spins as she feels her entire family turn against her sister. Only Jacob seems not to be furious. And that’s only because he’s staring blankly at Leta’s bedspread as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. ‘Did he know?’ Tina thinks hopelessly, ‘Is it worse if he didn’t or if he did?’ 

“How dare you, how dare you say that!” Leta shrieks, her weak voice straining. Newt whispers something in her ear that makes her fall back with a thud on the pillows. Theseus however has no such conscience, and stands in front of wife, on hand twitching to reach of his wand. Normally Tina would’ve stood between them. However, at the moment she can barely summon the energy to breathe properly. 

“I’m just telling the truth,” Queenie replies, not even flinching as Theseus bubbles over with rage. 

“That’s not the truth Queenie,” Tina manages to say. Her voice sounds like it’s from very far away. This is her sister. She used to love hiding under her skirts. And now Queenie’s saying it was for the greater good that Tina’s own sister lost her child. What has happened to her? 

“Teenie,” Queenie sighs condescendingly. One of her hands whips out to encircle her wrist. Her cat like nails dig into Tina’s wrist and for the first time in her life Tina feels an intense rush of disgust at her touch. 

“Don’t touch me,” Tina cries, falling away from her. But her pregnant belly means she almost literally falls, and Tina finds herself throwing out her hands to protect herself from crashing to the ground. The wall she collapses into manages to keep her upright- just. She barely had time to begin panting before a pair of familiar arms wrap around her. 

“Tina,” Newt whispers, fear coating his voice. Tina struggles to her feet, aided by Newt’s hand. His lips are stuttering anxiously, but no words are coming out. Tina’s heart is pumping hard enough for her to feel it in her ears. Queenie has made no move to comfort her, but her hands are clenched so tight her knuckles are white.

“Come sit,” Newt orders, his arm locked around her waist. 

“Look what you did!” Theseus spits cruelly at Queenie, as Tina hesitantly lowers herself onto Leta’s mattress. Newt sits beside her, practically on top of her. He balances his chin on her shoulder, glowering at Queenie through frosty eyes. 

“Theseus,” Leta calls softly, shaking her head. Theseus reluctantly follows her orders, fuming as he turns away.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Tina holds up her hands, tucking her hair behind her ears with shaky fingers. 

The group has dulled into a sullen silence. There is a sharp separation present that there has never quite been there before. Sure, there had been unwanted acceptance, but the acceptance was there; whether it was wanted or not. Now the sides are clear. Her, Newt, Leta, Theseus and Jacob on one side. And Queenie on the other. Tina wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve, before resting a hand on her bump turning to her sister. 

“Well there was no real point in us joining together, really, was there?” Tina asks Queenie tonelessly, the words sticking to the top of her mouth. Newt’s hands massage her back in a comforting manner, “At least not anymore,” 

“He’s too strong,” Queenie argues, crossing her arms over her chest in an infuriating similar way to something Tina herself would do, “He’ll flatten us all in a day- united or otherwise,”

“Perhaps he might,” Newt’s voice is as cool as ice, and it has a hint of a cruel note Tina’s never heard before. For a moment he sounds exactly like his imposing elder brother. His arms are warm around her but she can’t help but shiver, “But I don’t want to hear any more talk about us, and our children, possibly dying Queenie- For your sister’s sake if nothing else,” Queenie’s eyes drop down to the floor. She takes a few breaths. Then she looks up again, her eyes running up Tina’s pregnancy form as she does so. 

“Who knows what the future will bring,” Queenie answers her voice matter-of-fact and frozen round the edges, “You remember what happened to Mamma,” Tina stares at her, empty for a second before collapsing into angry tears. Her Mamma. Her beautiful mother dead on the birthing bed. Tina hadn’t been able to stop crying that day. An emotionless Queenie had to drag her away from the bloodied bedside. 

Tina sobs, sucking in short desperate breathes. Newt curses, an incredibly rude insult that makes Leta gasp and Jacob stutters his apologies. Tina can barely hear them. If Newt wasn’t there to hold her up, she’s pretty sure she would’ve collapsed. 

“I want you to leave!” Theseus screams so loud Tina gets hit by the whiplash. Her sister doesn’t even blink, and she tosses her long curls behind her ear graciously, her nose poked firmly in the air. 

“Don’t worry, I’m already packed,” Queenie scoffs, disinterested in Jacob’s confused exclamation, “I’ve found someone that appreciates my talents,” Tina’s brow narrows harshly, nearly giving her a headache. Newt’s hand has gone lax between the panels of her back. Someone that appreciates her talents? She couldn’t possibly mean… 

Queenie stalks up to Jacob, takes him by the collar and practically throws him out of the room. She smiles a sickly sweet smile in Tina’s direction. 

“Thanks for the tip Teenie,” Queenie twirls the knife between her fingers, “I will put it in good use, don’t worry,” Theseus’s wand waves violently, and the door slams shut behind her. 

“What did she mean?” Leta asks Tina quietly, her fingers twisted in knots on top of her bedsheets. Tina thinks. Then she gasps. Then she begins to cry harder. 

“I told her about Credence,” Tina looks blurrily through sodden eyelashes to a crestfallen Newt, “Mercy Lewis, Newt,”

“It’s alright,” Newt pulls her towards his chest, stroking her hair, “It’s all going to be okay Tina,” He’s saying it as if he wants to believe it himself. 

But it’s not going to be alright, Tina thinks as she sobs into her husband’s neck. Her sister’s gone, and probably to join Grindelwald’s forces. Nothing is ever going to be alright again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	22. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's seventh month of pregnancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> We're getting to the sticky end now. Hope everyone enjoys it!

“Newt,” The younger Scamander looks up to meet the tense face of his older brother. Newt puts down his book with a slap, and places it carefully on side table.

“What?” Newt whispers, and Theseus looks tentatively at the bed and waves him over instead of answering. Newt complies, standing. He leans over the bed side to kiss a slumbering Tina carefully on the forehead. His wife has been sleeping a lot lately. Her seventh month of pregnancy has taken its toll, and he’s been finding her curled up on all sorts of furniture. Newt gives Tina’s hand a squeeze before joining his brother outside in the corridor. 

“What do you need me for?” Newt asks Theseus, shutting the door behind him with a soft snap. Theseus’s face twists, and his hand is clenched around the hilt of his sword. 

“It’s easier if you see it,” Theseus says his blue eyes tired and shifty, his exclamation as thick as mud, “Bring your wand,” Newt swallows harshly, darting into their bedroom to snatch up his cases handle. Theseus rolls his eyes, in a fond sort of way, before assuring him down the stairs. Newt follows him quickly to one of the many Hogwart’s courtyards- the one without Rodger slumbering in it of course- his case bouncing uncomfortably against the bend of his knee. 

The snow as melted away, giving way to the sweet buds of spring. Four men have restrained three others underneath the shade of a slowly blooming apple tree. The four free men are wearing the familiar white and green armour of Theseus’s squad, with flowing cloaks hanging off their shoulders emblazoned with a white rose. The other three are on their knees, their hands bound together behind their backs. Their armor is an inky black, and a blood red cloak waves haughtily in the light breeze. Newt doesn’t have to wonder what’s emblazoned on their backs. A double ‘G’, sitting back to back. 

The Greater Good. 

“Grindlewald,” Newt snarls under his breath, glaring over at the prisoners. Every day they’ve been receiving notes that the army is getting closer. Tina hasn’t received a note for Credence since the raven almost three weeks ago now. She’s slowly closed in on herself, the walls she’d put up for herself since the first days of their marriage put back brick, by brick. Not even at night do the pair find peace. For both of them now it seems impossible to get a good night’s sleep. Not even counting how much Tina has to get up to pee these days. 

“We were doing a scout earlier,” Theseus folds his arms across his chest tightly, “We found these lot hiding out about three miles from here,”   
Newt looks up at his brother, his heart pumping against his chest. Three miles? Theseus squeezes the bridge of his nose, pinching his eyes shut. 

“It was only these three,” He replies to Newt’s horror. But the subtext behind his words are clear. It was only these three…for now. Newt’s sweat round the warm strap of his case has cooled significantly. The urge to pack up Tina and push her up onto Rodger’s back and fly away from this mess has never been so strong. Newt takes Theseus by the arm, and his brother opens his eyes to look down at him, his arm falling with a hard thud to his side. 

“Why have you shown me this,” Newt asks him angrily. He seems to be always angry these days, and it’s tiring as well as frustrating, “Except to give me another reason why I’m not going to sleep tonight,” 

A firm hand lands on his shoulder, like a teacher forcing a student to concentrate during a test. Theseus is looking intensely at his hostages, as if he’s able to see into each of their souls and is disgusted in what he finds there.

“Do they look, familiar to you Newt?” Theseus asks lowly. Newt turns stares as well. No. He doesn’t think so. Or maybe. Not well. But certainly the second one’s eyes, the first ones jaw, the third ones bushy beard. 

“Were they part of the Kowalski’s contingent?” Newt asks slowly, as Theseus cracks his knuckles menacingly. 

“Exactly,” Theseus agrees through clenched teeth. Newt re-adjusts his hand round his case; understanding his brothers anger, but not quite the extent of it. 

“So Queenie really has joined Grindlewald?” He approaches quietly, “It’s not like we didn’t guess that Theseus,” His brother’s fingers clench down on his shoulder, to the point of pain. Newt jumps but Theseus doesn’t let go. 

“How did a group of men that left three weeks ago already own Grindlewald’s armour?” Newt’s heart stops. It takes a good month to march down to London. Then there would be fittings, melding; there’s no way those men could have that kind of quality armour on a whim. No that was made especially for them. Which means they had to get to London a good few months before. Which means… 

“How long has Queenie been on Grindlewald’s side?” Newt gasps, a sour taste on his tongue. 

“We can’t know for sure,” Theseus admits begrudgingly, “But I’m guessing at least when our food suppliers started to dwindle,” The was almost six months ago. Shit. Merlin, poor Tina. 

“We’re so fucked,” Newt drops his case to the ground to be runs his hands hopelessly over his face. He takes a tired seat on the top of it, his legs suddenly not strong enough to hold him up. Tina, his children. His brother, Leta and their children. The rest of the men, women and children who have chosen to follow them. Do they even have a chance at all?

“My sentiments exactly,” Theseus plops himself down on the ground beside him, looking up at the sky. It was two against one before so they would have a chance to win. Now it’s one against two, and they’re going to get flattened. There’s no question about it. Even with Newt’s vague knowledge of warfare he knows numbers are one of the most important thing. There’s only so many days they could all hide out in the caverns of Hogwart’s castle before they run out of food. And even then neither Tina or Theseus would want to back down. 

“Is there any way we could win?” Newt asks his brother dejectedly. Theseus shrugs, twirling his wand between his fingertips. 

“No, not unless you happen to have a large combustion source on your person,” Theseus asks sarcastically, “That could aptly take out more than half of their forces,” Newt hides his head under his fringe, trying to hide his guilty eyes from his brother’s sharp gaze. But, naturally, he gets caught away. 

“Do you have something like that Newt?” Theseus asks him, his words skipping over each other in breathless eagerness. 

“I-“ Newt begins nervously, ready to quickly rebuff him. 

“Merlin’s bloody ballsack, your dragon!” Theseus slaps himself in the forehead so hard, Newt swears he hears birds lift off from the trees. He shakes his head, and his brother groans, “Newt, please,”

“No,” Newt says firmly, turning away from his brother’s elated face.

“What do you mean ‘no’” Theseus retorts, back equally hardened, his excitement falling off him in waves. 

“No,” Newt says back, bluntly, “I promised myself ten years ago that Rodger would never hurt anyone again,” 

“Rodger…” Theseus sounds as aspirated as Newt has ever heard him, and it does wonders for his slowly diminishing heart pressure. Newt quickly gets to his feet, gathers up his case, and hurries back towards the barricade. His blood pumps in his ear with each trembling step. 

‘I won’t. I won’t let him be seen as a murderer. They can’t make me. There must be another way,’ Newt’s mind screams round and round in his head, steam blowing out of his ears. 

‘Use the dragon,’ The hushed voice of Dumbledore rushes in from his memory. A growl pulls itself out of Newt’s throat. He kicks his foot out, enraged, into the castles wall. For a second the wave of pain brings him the sweet satisfaction he was craving for. But sooner, rather than later it disappears into throbbing pain, and Newt hops up and down waiting for his foot to become useful again. 

“Newt,” Theseus calls, and Newt swears under his breath as his brother puffs up to him, “Listen, Newt, you have to do this,” 

“Why?” Newt asks peevishly, twirling his toes round in his boot, to make sure they’re still working, “Because you want me to?”

“No,” Theseus shakes his head, his face shaded in sobriety, “Because all our lives are at stake,” All our lives. Newt thinks of Theseus’s laugh, Leta’s smile, Tina’s eyes and her sweet embrace. He gingerly places his still crying toe on the ground, revealing in the pain that shoots up his thigh. His mind is screaming both no and yes at the same time. He knows he wants to. He knows he needs to. But how can he let go of something he’s believed in so long? Theseus pulls him into a quick hug, which Newt attempts to reciprocate. 

“Let’s talk to Leta and Tina about it okay,” Theseus whispers much more kindly in his ear, “That might help you feel a little better about it,”  
\------------------

“No,” Leta says, her eyes wide with guilt and disgust, “No, I agree with Newt, don’t use the dragon,” 

Newt raises his brows smugly in Theseus’s direction across the dining table. It’s a small secluded thing tonight; half for privacy and half because food stores have become alarmingly short in the last few weeks. Newt sits across from Theseus, and   
Tina across from Leta. Sitting between them is a mere bowel of stew and four hard looking bread rolls. Everyone in the castle is having the same. 

Theseus scrunches up his nose in Newt’s direction, before turning to his wife. 

“Leta darling,” Theseus smiles gently in her direction, “We need to use the dragon to win the war,” Leta turns up her nose. 

“I’m sure our men will win it just as well,” Leta says decisively, easily brushing off her husband’s none so subtle persuasion. 

“No they won’t,” Tina is picking at her bread, shredding it into to bits and pieces, “They out number us at least three to one probably,” Newt nibbles sadly on his tongue at her shadowed demeanour. Tina has become a mirage of her former strong self since Queenie left. Her thin cheeks stand out in stark contrast against her large stomach. 

“So you think we should use the dragon too?” Theseus asks hopefully, dishing himself up a large portion of soup. 

“Yes,” Tina says, her dark eyes twisting knowingly to Newt’s horrified expression, “A little sweetheart, I’m sorry- but it’s up you,” 

“Me?” Newt asks, his voice shuddering slightly. Was it mad to hope that his strong willed wife might be the one to make his decision for him. 

“Rodger is yours,” Tina places a tired hand over his, squeezing the tips of his fingers, “You’re the only one who can decide, who should decide,” Newt smiles weakly, and Tina’s lips quirk up marginally. 

‘Thank you,’ he mouths gently, as she nods briefly, letting his hand go and turning back to her bread ripping. Theseus’s cheeks glow bright red with impatience. 

“But it’s not three to one anymore Tina,” He slams his hands down hard on the table, hard enough for the cutlery to bounce up, “It’s at least five to one,” Newt’s hand clench together on his pant leg. ‘No Theseus,’ He tries to telepathically tell him forcefully, ‘I haven’t told her yet, at least let me do it privately,’ 

“What?” Tina looks up at her brother in law, her brows tipped anxiously, her voice as hard as any blade. One hand rests protectively on her stomach, “What do you mean five to one?” 

“Queenie’s already joined Grindlewald,” Theseus explains forcefully, before Newt has a chance to chine in, "And we believe she joined him months ago," Leta gasps loudly, her dainty hand covering her mouth. Tina’s mouth falls slack, her shoulders flop forward. A weak moan falls from her lips. Newt’s heart clenches pitifully as he sees his wife break. What could be worse than having your own family betray you like that? 

“Theseus,” Newt hisses furiously at his older brother, “Tina, listen…” 

“There's only one thing Queenie ever told me…. that wasn't a lie,” Tina says simply, her hair falling over her face as she stares blankly down at her empty plate. Newt, Theseus and Leta exchange helpless looks. Newt presses his hand on Tina’s knee but she barely reacts; her face seems to be frozen in a frown. 

“Look, I can’t deny your sister is a bit of a…well a bit of a cold bitch,” Leta shoots her husband a withering glare that he aptly dodges to smile kindly at Tina, ”But we’re going to win, your pregnancies going to go smoothly, you have nothing to worry about,” Newt feels something hard slam down on his right toe, which he quickly discovers on furious discovering to be his brothers foot. 

‘Dragon,’ Theseus mouths from across the table, and Newt pretends to stretch his arm up in the air so he can none to subtly flip his brother off without Tina or Leta noticing. The brother’s petty silent argument is halted by Tina’s plate clattering loudly as she presses her napkin that she had folded on top of her lap rather hard into the china’s embrace. She stands up violently, her chair scraping rudely on the floor, her lips pressed firmly together as if she’s trying not to cry.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” Tina murmurs down at the table cloth, refusing to look at any of them, “I think I’ll go to bed now,” 

“Are you alright love?” Newt asks anxiously, half bending out of his chair as she wobbles away from the table. 

“I’m fine,” Tina waves her hand casually. But her face is turned away from them all, and her voice is full of tears, “Just need a bit of a lie down,” 

Newt stands sharply as she waddles out of the room, head down. His small appetite is obliterated completely, and Newt also begins to stalk towards the door, blind to everything except Tina’s retreating form. 

“Newt,” Theseus calls abashed from his seat, “I’m sorry,” Newt barely casts him a second glance. 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” He mumbles, closing the door behind him to following the trudging steps of his wife.   
\----------------------

Newt catches up with her in their chambers. For a moment he thinks he’s made an mistake, for their bed, and their whole bedroom for that matter, is empty. But thankfully a cool breeze and a pair of ghostly curtains direct Newt to their balcony.   
A full moon hangs in the sky, basking the whole castle in its pale glow. A shadow of a woman stands at the edge, seemingly numb to the freezing night air. 

“Tina?” Newt asks tentatively. Tina’s long dark hair blows round her, the strands catching on her while dress. This all complete with her creamy skin makes her look like a piece of moonlight. 

“Tina are you alright?” Newt asks the dark shadow of his wife. She turns slightly and moonlight streams across her face. Newt takes a shocked step forward as he takes in her red eyes and pursed lips. Tina rocks back and forward on her heels, looking lost.

“Newt,” Tina holds out her arms and Newt quickly rushes to put his arms round her. She sobs pitifully into his shoulders. Newt strokes her back, a worried ache beginning to form in the depths of his stomach. How has his strong wife in the last couple of weeks melted into this?

“My Mamma died in child birth,” Tina croaks through cracked lips, “With my baby brother,” Newt’s eyes widen and his lungs strain as he forgets how to breath. What Queenie said was true all those weeks ago? Tina has been hiding this from him all this time she was pregnant. All the times she promised she’d be all right, she was actually holding this in. 

“Oh my love," Newt murmurs softly, pain speaking through his every syllable. 

“I don’t want to die,” Tina cries hopelessly, “I want to meet our children, I want to see their first steps, first time they meet the creatures,” She shudders into his neck and Newt’s heart immediately breaks.

“You will, I know you will,” Newt tells her tightly, bringing her closer to his chest, “You promised me next time remember, that we’ll have more children,” Tina struggles out of his grip to stare at him matter-of-factly; her face dull, her eyes firm.

“Will there even be a next time even if I do make it?” She asks him, her voice crooked, “If we all die in the midst of Grindlewald’s and now Queenie’s impending army?” 

Newt lets out a wretched curse, and Tina jumps her fingers curling round the balcony’s frozen frame. He quickly sidles up beside her, and takes her cheek between his palms. She refuses to meet his eye and Newt tries his best not to cry. She’s been strong all this time for him, but been battling this inside. Merlin, what has he done to deserve this woman? 

“That will not happen Tina,” Newt spits, suddenly furious at this unfair plausible twist of fate, “It can’t happen, I forbid it,” Tina sighs, a hint of a smile growing round her mouth. Though that smile is simple and sad. She leans into his touch, her eyelids fluttering up a him.

“Is that enough?” Tina asks him absently, “For must husband to forbid it?” Newt nods, one hand falling to her stomach.

“We’re going to be fine,” Newt looks down, then up, including them all in his admission, “I’m not going to leave you, not for a minute, and you’re all going to live, and we’re going to happy,” 

“And the oncoming army is just going to walk around us is it?” Tina shoots out, rough and sarcastic. Newt jolts back hurt. He can’t help but feel like this is an attack at him. With him and Rodger the fight would be over in a day. 

“I’m not getting my creatures involved,” Newt argues again, feeling rather like a broken record. Tina frowns at him as if he’s a child. 

“Mercy Lewis, I’m not asking you to,” She rolls her eyes, before turning away from him to face the night, “But Newt they’re not going to stop marching just because we’ve had a baby,” Tina’s hands tremble where they rest on the balcony’s ledge. Newt covers it with his own. 

“I know,” He agrees tiredly. And the worst of it is; he does. It would probably make them even more frantic to get here. 

“As long as I have the babies before they come…” Tina sighs half-heartedly, leaning her head over the balcony to take in a deep breath of night air, “It’ll be fine, we can all escape, hide out in the woods somewhere,” She waves a hand at the dense forest below them. The forbidden forest is what they used to call it as children. It’s full of creatures too, and some just as nice as Grindlewald’s army if you don’t know how to approach them correctly. 

“Would you be content with that?” Newt asks her honestly, “To retreat instead of fight?” Tina considers the questions clearly painstakingly, her face twisted cruelly. But looking out over all the hundreds of little candle lights flickering from the castles windows and she almost immediately becomes resolute.

“No,” She admits, but sticks her ground firmly, “But what other choice do we have, I won’t see helpless men, women and children, our children die because of my pride,” 

‘This is why I love you,’ Newt thinks passionately, ‘Always thinking of others, before yourself… Unlike, me’. He stares helplessly up at the bulbous moon. He’s never been much of a religious man, but at this moment he can't help but tentative prayer. Please, please, please, if I've every done anything good. Save my family. Save us all. 

“What if you don’t have the babies and the army arrives,” Newt asks her quietly, his hand tense round her own. Tina’s silence is enough. A hot wet tear rolls down Newts nose. She’ll be akin to helpless. So close to childbirth. What if something goes wrong with the labour in the woods and the midwives have either already escaped or have been killed? Newt presses his nose in Tina’s hair as they cry together under the soft light of the moon.

“We’re going to get through this,” Newt vows wetly, pressing a messy kiss to her cheek, “Together Tina, I know we will,” 

“Together,” Tina whispers. There’s a tear hanging off her eyelash. They kiss, desperately. As if their lives were ending tonight. As if the army was at their gates.   
“Whatever happens Newt,” Tina says frantically, in-between their fervent embraces 

“I just want you to know, even if it wasn’t my decision, I’m so glad I'm married you, so glad I get to have your children,” Newt kisses her so hard he swears she’ll bruise. Tina whines in the back of her throat. 

“I’m glad too, so glad Tina you have no idea,” Newt chokes up, the words stopping in his throat. Tina smiles gingerly, and flops into his arms, her chin bouncing against his shoulder. Newt clutches her to his chest, her bump tight between them. She’s going to be fine, they’re all going to be fine. Newt hugs his family to him. We have to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	23. A labour of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where a lot of people...arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I was going to have this chapter as one. But it got to about 6,000 words and I decided to split it. Hope everyone enjoys and the next part will be coming soon!
> 
> Big thank you for Oceanicflights for beta-ing!

“Then Newt can fly out the children to your castle,” Theseus moans on, as they all pour over a map of the highlands. Little white and black pieces flit magically over the board, as together the Scamander’s try to guess Grindlewald’s battle plan, “It’s too bad Queenie’s forces will know the castle well, or we could use that to our advantage,”

“Place forces in behind of every available entrance, even the back ones,” Tina advises tiredly, shifting for what must be the millionth time on the bulky couch. To think she was enjoying this pregnancy a few months ago, “They will most like try to surround us and we won’t be doing ourselves any favours if we underestimate them,” 

“Agreed,” Leta says firmly. Tina does her best to smile at her encouragingly. Her sister-in-law has been watching the map as though it’s making her dizzy. She’s not sure how much Leta really understands, except for the fact that men with swords and magic are coming up to destroy them all. 

Newt watches the map through wary eyes, his face the colour of spoiled milk. He’s barely made a peep. Tina takes his hand and finds it clammy. She knows he feels guilty, but she also knows he’s unlikely budge on the matter. Newt Scamander would never be one to show creatures in a negative light. Tina’s made sure not to shoot him any unfavourable looks as Theseus insists on doing it, but she’s not sure her understanding is making him feel any better about it.

“It’s going to be fine,” She intervenes between the brothers silent bickering, “Let’s just-“

“My Lords, my Ladies,” A servant as jumpy as a kangaroo springs into the room. His face is flushed and his eyes are bulging from his skulls. Newt and Theseus immediately launch to their feet, wands drawn. Tina shuffles as far and as fast as she can to the end of her seat. She can’t help but feel rather useless now. She can barely get on her shoes without her husband’s help.

“What man?” Theseus barks loudly, and the servant jumps, almost hitting his head on the ceiling. 

“The guards have kidnapped a group of followers; they demand a meeting with you all. It’s the Kowalski’s, My Lord and Lady Scamander’s,” A canon shot could’ve fired, and Tina still couldn’t have felt more shocked. Theseus swears, but under his breath. Leta’s lithe hand reaches out to grasp Tina’s, but she seems to think better of it and it falls back limp into her lap. Newt looks over to Tina, and she knows the choice is all hers.

“Lady Kowalski,” Tina’s voice sounds grated, and she struggles to clear it, “Is Lady Kowalski with them?” 

“No,” the servant states resolutely, as if the knowledge had been drilled into his brain before rushing up, “No, apparently they searched quite a wide radius for her, but it’s just Lord Kowalski and the children,” At word of the children Tina’s resolve breaks. She won’t have her nieces and nephews floundering in their dungeon cells. 

“Bring them up,” Tina orders, quickly before she can change her mind. 

Theseus frowns at her, but she sticks up her nose and refuses to budge. None of the children at least deserve to be locked up. Jacob…well, it depends. It depends on many, many things. The room is uncomfortably silent as they all wait. Newt sits down again and places his hand encouragingly on her knee. Eventually the door creaks open. 

“Jacob,” Tina greets her brother-in-law with a tight smile. The man looks a wreck. He’s grown a beard of all things, and his portly belly has shrunk from clear malnourishment. Jacob greets them all back with a short nod, instead of his usual cheeky grin. He’s still in his travelling clothes and they’re all caked with mud. 

“I couldn’t bring the children,” Jacob shakes his head, his fists clenched, “They’re as terrified as it is, they’ve been set up with some soup,” He waves a vague hand at the door. Leta has got her head turned away from him, the pain on her face clear that she hasn’t remembered how he followed his wife after she said those terrible things. Theseus has settled himself protectively behind his wife, his mouth a thin line. Tina looks pleadingly to her husband.

“Jacob, what on earth are you doing here?” Newt throws him a bone, though he’s just as cold as any of them. 

“Queenie…well she’s gone crazy, even the children were afraid at her at the very end. We managed to escape when she was in one of her council meetings, and doubled back up here,”

“Tina, I found this outside the castle near the stables,” Jacob continues holds out a small note, with it tied a sort of feather, “It was addressed to you,” Jacob takes a step forward to give it to her, but Newt jumps up deftly to intersect. He presses it into her hand, ignoring her look. The raven feather tickles the palm. Tina studies the handwriting with a slowly thrumming pulse. 

Tina,

I’m here. In the woods. 

Please come, 

Love C.

“It’s Credence, he’s in the forbidden forest just outside,” Tina breathes, delighted, “He wants to meet with me, Newt I have to go,” She presses her hands against her chairs arms, readying to launch herself up. 

“You can’t possibly,” Leta cries out passionately, her eyes wild. 

“Why not?” Tina asks hurt. The way everyone looks knowingly at each other, causes her blood to begin to boil. ‘I’m pregnant, not a pane of glass,’ She seethes quietly to herself, ‘I won’t break just by going on a stroll in the woods,’ 

“You’re rather… delicate at the moment, that’s why,” Newt explains and presses a kiss to her hand. Tina frowns, ripping her fingers out of his grip. 

“Who is this Credence fellow anyway?” Theseus asks resolutely. Tina pettily holds her tongue, refusing to look at Newt or Leta. 

“Tina’s brother, well sort of,” Newt explains to the astonished room. 

“Isn’t that the man whose Grindlewald’s side man?” Leta asks slowly. There’s an ugly silence. Tina bites down on the insides of her cheeks. 

“Grindlewald’s right side man?” Theseus shouts, and he begins to stomp round the room. Tina can practically see the sparks flying off his boot tips, “And you want to go and meet with him?” Theseus turns to her dumbfounded. Tina nods, unyielding. 

“Perhaps tomorrow, when it’s a bit lighter” Newt smiles at Tina. It’s one of his crooked ones that usually makes her melt. But after his ‘delicate’ comment, Tina only raises her eyebrows. 

“He was always a nice boy,” Jacob pips up bravely, though he gets ignored.

“But what if he’s a spy?” Theseus flops down on the arm of Leta’s chair. Credence’s letter is slowly turning to sludge in Tina’s sweat stained hand. 

“Or attacks you,” Leta agrees automatically, leaning into her husband’s embrace. 

“Credence? Attack Tina?” Jacob sputters, sound flabbergasted. Tina nods at him, as gratefully as she can, glad to have one person present who knows what they were like together.

“I hardly think that’s likely,” Newt says, but too quietly to be noticed by his fired up brother. 

“Well you never bloody know,” Theseus argues back crudely. 

“I do wish you wouldn’t swear Theseus,” Leta sighs, rubbing bridge of her nose. 

“Everybody, shut it!” Tina shouts loudly, her vocal cords ripping. She rises unsteadily to her feet. The room quietens to stare at her, just in time for everyone to see a burst of water flood her petticoats. 

“Oh,” Tina gasps, as she finds her thighs soaked to the skin. An embarrassed flush flies to her cheeks. She can’t have just peed herself in front of her entire family, can she have? Newt grasps her hand. His face is frozen with fear. 

“Your waters,” He mumbles, rubbing her thumb harshly across her skin. 

“Oh my god,” Tina trembles. No, no not now. Not while Credence needs her. 

“I’ll run for the midwives,” Leta says hastily. Her own face is as pale as ice as she whips out the door, so fast Tina wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d apparated. Jacob takes a seat on an armchair. He looks awfully like he needs a hard drink. Theseus has already gotten his pipe out from his pocket. Tina looks down at the floor, as if she expects a baby to fall out of her skirts and onto the carpet. 

“I’m not ready,” Tina blathers, her heart banging against her ribs, “And what about Credence, he’ll be expecting me,” The men stare at her as if she’s crazy. 

“You can’t possibly go now love,” Newt’s holding onto her wrist so hard, she’s sure he’ll leave a bruise. Tina can see him breathing, hard. In and out, in and out, his diaphragm working hard. 

“Don’t worry,” Tina tries her best to calm her down. But an extreme pain slashes through her abdomen, and she doubles over with pain. Her breath hisses through her teeth, and he counts briskly in her mind trying her best not to think about it. 

“Mercy Lewis that smarts,” Tina stands straight again, with the help of Newt, “I really can’t go, can I,” she says sadly. Newt sharply shakes his head, his mouth firm. 

“Someone will have to, and it’s got to be someone this Credence fellow will trust,” Theseus blows a puff of thick smoke that smells of sweet vanilla into the room, “Newt and I had better go,”

“What?” Newt turns around so fast a burst of air slaps Tina in the face. Her husband’s hands are clenched together in tight fists, and for a moment she thinks he might punch his brother. Theseus looks Newt in the eye steadfastly, clearly unafraid of his anger. 

“Well I’m running Hogwarts’s defences so I’ve got to,” Theseus is holding his pipe hard enough for the wood to crack, “and you’re Tina’s husband, he’ll me more likely to trust you than any of the rest of us,” 

“No,” Newt cries out, cupping her cheeks. Tina leans into his touch, letting her forehead fall against his own, “I promised I would stay with you, I have to see that you’re all going to be alright,” 

“I know,” Tina whispers, caught between two evils. Either to break Credence’s trust, or for Newt not to be by her side. She knows what would be the right thing to do, and it makes her heart ache. Newt must sense the resignation on her face. He slides down to his knees, as if physically about to beg.

“I’m not leaving you,” Newt says muffle, his arms wrapping tight round her legs. Tina leans down as best she can to comfort him. But another contraction rips through her and she lets out a yelp. Mercy Lewis, they tell you it’s painful, but you never really believe them. Newt stares up at her, trembling with sheer fear. 

“Love, please, don’t make me do this,” His teeth are gritted with pain, “Don’t make me leave you,” Tears squeeze themselves down of his eyes, and run in torrents down his cheeks. Tina feels herself falling into wretchedness. But Credence’s note keeps her steady. She can’t let him down, not again. 

“Newt please, you have to go,” Tina breathes hard, “For me, for Credence,” Newt looks up at her. His eyes are wide and round. The green orbs sparkle with determination. 

“I’d do it for you,” He utters valiantly, “no one else,”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you will be back before anything happens,” Tina tries to calm both his and her own nerves, “Labour can take hours after all,” She flashes him a weak smile, which he barely manages to return. Newt gets shakily to his feet. Theseus walks briskly towards the door, but her husband doesn’t move. Tina takes his hand. She can tell he’s painting a picture of her in his minds eyes. 

“You forbid me to die, remember,” Tina presses again, forcing a stronger grin, “So we must have nothing to worry about,” Newt lets out a low moan, before pulling her flush against him. His lips slide urgently over her own, and Tina replies in turn his fingers pushing into his hair. They sway on the spot; each second they kiss ticking by quickly than the last. Eventually they have to bob up for air. 

“Tina I-,“ Newt’s thumb strokes her cheek lovingly. His lips stutter, and Tina gazes up at him, caught. ‘Please, say it,’ She urges him silently, ‘I don’t know if I can- not for the first time, not with Theseus in Jacob in the room,’

“Newt hurry up!” Theseus calls out directly, banging his pipe against the door frame, “The sooner we leave the sooner you can get back to her,” Newt lets her go looking pale. His hand slips through her fingers, and Tina tries her best not to mind. ‘It’s alright,’ She tells herself thickly, ‘I know what he wanted to say, I he knows I feel the same,’ 

“Tina,” Leta’s frantically falls round the corner, panting, “They’re ready for you,”

\--------------------------------------

The forest is swollen with darkness. Newt and Theseus pick their way through the trees, as silent as any mouse, holding onto each other so to not lose their way. Both their wands are held outstretched in their hands. God knows if anyone is watching them. Newt resolutely refuses to look back at where the lights of Hogwart’s castle faintly shine. 

“What if this is a trap?” Theseus asks for what must be the millionth time. Newt refuses to reply. He refuses to believe that what is keeping him away from his labouring wife is one of Grindlewald’s tricks. Or even worse; Queenie’s. Newt jumps down from a large tree root, landing hard on the ground. He waits impatiently for Theseus to land beside him, and takes his sleeve roughly again as they begin to plod on. 

“Newt…I’m just saying,” His brother whispers, “this is awfully easy- who knows if this kid even has any information,” Newt whips round to face him, letting his fingers rip off him- separating them. His already thin patience, snapping.

“Then why don’t we turn round right now!” Newt argues forcefully, anxiety ripping at his chest. He can still feel Tina all over him. He can still taste her lips. ‘I promised I wouldn’t leave her,’ He falls to the forest floor in a huff, ‘I should be there, I need to be there, she needs me,’ Newt licks salty tears off the side of his mouth, burying his head in his forearms. 

“Newt,” Theseus says heavily, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Who goes there?” A new voice asks from the depths of the trees. It’s a man, and he sounds terrified. His voice trembles with apprehension and fear. A light from Theseus’s wand shines bright, pushing into the forest. Various trees, leaves and bushes are illumined, as well a mysterious figure. A tall shadow is just visible, staring out behind an enormous elm. Newt carefully leaps to his feet, approaching them as he would any distressed creature. He takes one step. Then another. The man doesn’t step away. But he doesn’t approach either. 

“Credence…is that you?” Newt asks softly, holding out a hand to Theseus, silently urging him not to make any sudden moves. 

“Why do you want to know?” The stranger hisses softly. A branch snaps under someone’s foot. Newt and Theseus look at each other. Neither of them have moved. The shadow slips out of the wand light’s sight. 

“I’m Tina’s husband, Newton Scamander,” Newt cries out hastily, not wanting whoever it is to disappear. They don’t sound dangerous at least, “And this is my brother Theseus,”   
The bushes crack again, and the shadow gets closer. Finally, the proper shape of the man comes into view. He’s dressed head to toe in black, including his hair and most of his face which is covered in dirt. Various leaves stick out of his raven like locks, and mud sticks to the knees of his pants. This is a person who has been living rough. 

“How am I supposed to know that?” His dark eyes shine from the wand light. He’s holding a small blade. Newt barely suppresses a small smile. The Goldstein siblings sure love their knifes, “Where’s Tina, I want to see her,” His amusement leaves him, as soon as it came

“Tina is…” Here Newt loses his words. Is she alright? He doesn’t know. He fumbles and Credence stares at him suspiciously. Thankfully Theseus clears his throat.

“I’ve got your note here, and your ravens wing,” Theseus pulls both items out of his pocket, and holds them out towards the young man. He’s a bit younger than the brothers. Newt estimates around Tina’s age, “Is that enough for you to talk with us at least,” Credence looks at note disdainfully, probably thinking it could’ve been forged. But the raven wing seems to make him soften, and he nods jerkily. 

“I suppose,” Credence agrees. He looks up, shooting them both a look that he could’ve only learnt from Tina herself, “For now,” The Scamander brothers gulp, and nod hurriedly.   
“Come with me,” Credence waves them along, and Newt and Theseus follow him, deeper into the forest.

\--------------------------------------

“I reckon it’s about time to push my Lady,” A midwife announces cheerfully, looking up from her skirts. Tina trembles like a leaf. 

“Already?” She asks, her eyes bulging out of her head, “But Newt’s still not back!” Leta pats her hand encouragingly. Tina looks up desperately up into the sympathetic face of her sister-in-law. 

“Babies hardly ever do what is needed of them,” Leta says jovially. Tina frowns, turning away from her doing her best to ignore the signs of another contraction. ‘It’s all very well for you,’ she thinks cynically, ‘you’re not the one about to push a watermelon out of your lady parts without your husband present’. Tina looks longingly towards the bedroom door. She wants her sweetheart here, with her. 

“Newt swore he’d be here,” She replies babyishly. The contraction hits her like a lightning strike, and Tina grits her teeth through it. A cold wet cloth gets placed on her forehead. 

“You have to do it Tina,” Leta presses her, more forcefully this time, “Newt will be back soon, and you’ll have the nicest surprise in the world to give him,” Tina looks woefully at her sister. Dribbles of cold water flow down her spine. Can she do this? 

“Are you ready to push My Lady?” A midwife asks her smartly. 

Tina takes a deep breath. Newt is doing something for her. Let her do something for him. Something wonderful. 

“Yes, I am,” Tina nods. 

\------------------------------------------

Credence has led them almost to the middle to the forest. Theseus still has his wand outstretched. Newt wishes he could put his own down. But Credence hasn’t said a word since he beckoned them to follow him, and Newt’s not quite sure an accepting silence is the same as trust. Eventually they’re led into a clearing. It’s poorly set up. A grubby little tarp lies on the ground, and a snubbed fire pit lies blackened with only a couple of coals. Credence sits himself on a spare stump. Newt and Theseus collapse beneath him on the leaves. 

“This is nice,” Newt tries awkwardly for pleasantries. Theseus grimaces as he pulls a sharp branch out from under his arse. 

“Well, what do you have to tell us?” Theseus asks briskly, for which Newt is glad for. In all truth he’s itching to get moving. He hopes whatever Credence has to say is short and to the point. 

“I wanted to talk to Tina,” Credence brushes his hands uncomfortably over his trousers, “She knows about these sort of things,” He looks hopefully behind the brothers, as if expecting her to appear from the trees. 

“Tina is…pregnant,” Newt explains sorely. His foot bangs madly against the forest floor, “Or at least she should be at the moment,” He looks up at the dark sky, trying his best not to cry. Is he a father? Is he still a husband?

“Oh goodness,” Credence inhales sharply. He looks down. Newt thinks he sense a piece of happiness flicker through his dark eyes, “She always did want children,” He whispers reminiscently. 

“I am organising the fight against Grindlewald if that settles your conscience,” Theseus tells him helpfully. 

“Will you tell us what you know?” Newt asks him urgently. 

“I suppose,” Credence concedes, “I must tell someone,” He spins his knife between his fingertips impatiently. 

“It’s about the army, Grindlewald and Queenie’s,” He enlightens them dully. The sharp blade of his knife pricks his finger, and a drop of blood falls to the leaves. 

“Yes, we already know they’ve joined together,” Theseus brushes this information away with the back of his hand. 

“That’s just the thing,” Credence looks up, his face screwed up in a grimace, “It’s not just them,”  
\-----------------------------------------

Everything is a mess of pain. Tears roll down Tina’s cheeks. She told herself she wouldn’t scream, but she can’t help but cry. 

“Almost there,” A voice orders her, “Push Tina,” Tina does.

Bombardment of sound blasts everyone’s ears. Tina looks up urgently as her child is pulled into the air. A picture of red ooze, and pink skin, and the loudest squall of a creature she’s ever heard in her entire life. 

“Well done Tina!” Leta claps, beaming down at her. Tina grins tiredly back, feeling rather like she’s just run ten miles. 

“It’s a boy,” The stern midwife informs everyone stonily, clearly more focused on the pigment of the child’s skin than smiling like the rest of them. 

“Give him to me,” Tina holds out her arms eagerly. Her son. Their son. Arthur Scamander. 

“My lady he has to be cleaned,” A young midwife bobs awkwardly, the child still caught in her arms. Tina waves her hands dismissively. Her thighs are sticky with all number of strange fluids. She’ll have to throw out this nightdress in any case. Plus, it’s her boy. Her boy.

“I don’t care about all that,” Tina insists holding out her arms wider. Her baby gets placed tentatively in her arms. He’s still screaming, as Tina smiles down at him. Arthur’s little limbs beat against her chest as she clutches him tight to her chest. His eyes are the most gorgeous green she’s ever seen. Tina can just imagine Newt looking up at her. She rocks him gently, and he’s screams slowly ebb to soft little cries. 

“Hello, my darling,” Tina greets him joyously, “Baby Arthur,” She seems unable to stop smiling. How can it be that such a little person be so perfect? 

“He’s beautiful,” Leta says tearfully, a hint of sadness seeping into her voice. Tina knows she should comfort her, but she finds herself unable to do anything but nod. He’s alive. She’s alive. All that stress, all that worry, all for nothing. Yes it hurt like billio, but Mercy Lewis was it worth it. Her son. 

“Just wait until your Papa sees you,” Tina whispers to her son, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“We’ll just cut the cord,” A midwife darts in to do so, and suddenly Arthur Scamander is his own separate person. Tina smiles. Her could be anything now. His tiny body is full to bursting with possibility. He could be a knight, a mage, a magizoologist…anything he wants to be. And now she’ll be there to support him.

“Is he healthy and strong and…everything?” Tina asks hopefully. The stern midwife nods a her considerably. Tina has the sense she’s trying to stare into her soul. 

“As strong as any ox,” The midwife nods at her in a proud manner, “You did a good job, except for your slight hesitancy just before the time to push,” Tina lets the…compliment run over her; not quite knowing whether to be offended or not. 

“I’d say you passed,” Leta quips wryly, and Tina giggles into Arthur’s chest. The boy reaches up to grasp at her nose, and everyone laughs. A heavy weight has flown off her shoulders, one that has been battering her around for honestly months. But she’s alive, and her child is healthy. Could there be anything better in the world? 

“I’ll give him a quick wash,” Tina unwillingly lets her son leave her arms. But she doesn’t want him getting a chill, not with all the blood covering him. She watches, fixated, as he’s bathed, the other midwives buzzing around her like a crowd of bees. Firm hands feel around her abdomen, pressing and squeezing certain places. Tina lets them easily. The women in this room must know her body almost as well as Newt does! 

“The after birth shouldn’t take long,” A kind midwife informs her lightly, her eyes stuck on her stomach, “And it looks like you’ve got another baby in there, Lady Scamander,” Tina beams. Arthur and Merlin then. Doesn’t that sound lovely. The kind midwife whispers something to the stern one that makes her frown, and ask an onslaught of questions that the other rushes to answer. 

“Knew it,” Leta cheers happily, squeezing her shoulder tightly. Tina tries her best to smile back. But she’s caught something in the midwife’s face. And she doesn’t like how she keep threading her fingers together, brushing down her skirt, then threading her fingers together again. 

“What?” Tina asks her firmly, “What is it?”

“The baby is facing the wrong direction,” She admits nervously, dropping into an unnecessary curtsey. Tina’s stomach turns. Leta pats her shoulder confidently. Her sister in law looks determined to stay calm. 

“Breech?” Leta asks the girl promptly. Tina looks up hopefully. She could deal with a breech. That’s just arse first. Nothing to worry about. The kind midwife cringes, and Tina’s hopes fall away. 

“No… not exactly,” The girl stutters. 

“But don’t worry Lady Scamander,” The firm midwife cuts in briskly, carrying a new tub of water tightly in her arms, “You’ll be fine,” That does nothing to calm Tina’s pattering heart. She has a feeling she’d say the same if an earthquake was currently battering the castle to dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	24. A labour lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> He's part two, as promised.   
> Hope everyone enjoys!

The already chilly forest has dropped several degrees. The Scamander brothers exchange concerned glances out of the corner of their eyes. Credence sucks the blood off his thumb looking entirely bedraggled. 

“What do you mean ‘it’s not just them’?” Theseus asks incredulously through frozen lips. His brother sounds, for the first time really, truly terrified.

Newt hesitantly reaches out to place a hand on his brother’s knee. Theseus rips it out of his grip, with a low curse. Newt cringes, and tries his best not to mind. His brother hasn’t been especially, jovial, to him in these past few weeks. Not that Newt can blame him. But he still can’t make up his mind. To use Rodger, and be the reason thousands of men die or to stand by and do nothing. 

“Grindlewald,” Credence almost jumps out of his skin at the name of his old master; even though he was the one to say it, “He-e wasn’t sure Queenie was being true about joining him,” The young man looks broken out at the trees, and between the dark trunks. As if he believes thousands of soldiers are about to break out into the clearing and overwhelm them. 

“So as a precaution, he also paid for some foreign forces,” Credence winces, self-consciously scraping the dirt out from under his fingernails. 

“How many foreign forces?” Theseus asks frantically. Newt can practically see their chances tumbling over in his head. He tries his best not to think about it. Worrying means you suffer twice. Credence stays quiet, still playing with his cuticles. He looks incredibly guilty. 

“Credence, how many men?” Newt asks him again uneasily. 

“Overall… with his, Queenie’s and the French combined,” Credence finally admits half-heartedly, “I’d say, all up, 100,000,” Newt bites down on his tongue. 100,000. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen 100,000 people before, let alone 100,000 soldiers. 100,000 sharp swords. There won’t be 100,000 wands at least, not with the majority of Queenie’s contingent being muggles. But they’d be enough. God they’d be enough. 

“100,000 men?” Theseus gasps despairingly. He sounds rather like he’s been hit on the back with a cannon ball. Like all the wind has been snapped out of him, as well as the pain of having his ribs crushed. 

“How are we supposed to stand a chance?” Newt asks to no one in particular.

“We’re not,” Theseus snaps irritably.

“How many forces do you have?” Credence addresses Theseus as awkwardly as Newt would’ve himself. Theseus shoots the lad a dark look. 

“30,000 at best,” He grumbles, “We do have Hogwarts, the castles defences will give us some advantage…” Theseus begins cracking sticks on the ground. Making a small, passive-aggressive pile of kindling. 

“But?” Newt presses him, searching for a slither of hope. However thin it may be. 

“They have magic, I mean I know we both have but,” Theseus throws up his hands, “That’ll be the first thing they thought of, how to bust the thing down,” His legs tremble. Newt knows, that if it weren’t for the threat of soldiers hiding all around them, he’d be firing spells to let of some steam, right at this moment. 

“There’s more,” Credence whispers, almost inaudibly.

“What do you mean more,” Theseus states angrily, and the boy recoils at his harsh tone. 

“It can’t be worse than what we just heard,” Newt says, much more forgivingly. Though he can’t say he’s ever more please. He has a strange, skin pebbling feeling. As if he’s just tempted fate. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

The second labour has been a hard slog, and that’s putting it mildly. The baby is still in the wrong place, even though it feels like it’s been hours. Tina’s bitten a hole through her bottom lip, and sweat pours off her body in waves. There’s no more gentle encouragements by the midwives. Instead they congregate together to share private whispers, and morose looks. Even Leta has slowly become disheartened, her encouragements more hesitant. As each minute passes, and as her strength slowly fails her; Tina finds herself becoming more and more hysterical. 

“Why won’t he come out!” She asks, looking rapidly between them all, her voice high and helplessly. Tina feels trapped, stuck in a nightmare of her own making. Is this what her mother felt like? What Leta felt like? Just before it all went wrong. 

“Calm down Tina,” Leta presses a quick kiss to her melting forehead, “I’m sure it’s all going to be fine,” 

“Mrs Scamander,” The stern midwife approaches Leta is a business-like manner, “Can we talk to you for a second?” Leta gives Tina a quick hug, before following orders. They take her to the other side of the room and begin talking in hushed voices. 

Tina leans back on the pillows, struggling not to cry. ‘Oh Newt,’ She thinks terribly, ‘where are you?’ Surely she could deal with all of this, if he were here to hold her hand. As it stands what seems to be gallons of red blood coats her thighs. Tina can hear Arthur screaming next door, they took him away as soon as things got rough. She feels like he’s screaming for her, and Tina squirms on the sodden mattress. Why couldn’t she just fall asleep and wake up when all of this is a distant memory? Except she has a sunken suspicion that if she takes a nap, she might never wake up again. Leta turns back to her, but the woman is unable meet her eyes.   
The other Mrs Scamander drags her feet back over to Tina’s bedside, looking incredible grave. 

“What?” Tina asks Leta desperately, her sweaty fingers grasping her sister’s limp wrist. Leta looks down at her, pale, her lip caught between her teeth.

“What is it?” Tina asks again. Leta clears her throat, looking sideways at the midwifes as if asking for permission. Another pain grips Tina and she gives a strained gurgle in the back of her throat. Leta gives a yelp and a few dozen tears drip down her face. 

“Tell me,” Tina hisses through clenched teeth. 

“Oh Tina, I’m so sorry, ” Leta whispers, kneeling down beside her putting her cool hand against her sweaty forehead, “But the midwives… if you keep going like this…they don’t think you’ll survive,” 

Tina’s lips tremble. She looks up at the ceiling, for a moment unable to feel anything at all. A dark coldness moving over her entire being. She can still hear her son screaming next door. ‘A hearty pair of lungs,’ Tina thinks dreamily, ‘Oh how I wanted to hold you my darling, just for a little longer,’ The pains come again and she grits her teeth through it, hopeless tears falling from her eyes. Tina wanted to hold both of them. She wanted both of them to survive. Damn her own life, if her twins live, she’ll be at least be able to die in peace. 

“Neither of us?” Tina croaks out to a crumbling Leta, “Not even my baby boy?” Leta stutters and Tina shifts herself up with as much strength as she can muster to glare at her. 

“There’s another way Lady Scamander,” The firm midwife intersects, as ever an immovable statue, “If we make an incision in your belly, and take the baby out that way… I see a high chance of survival for him,” 

“Then do it!” Tina cries, hope flitting over her, purposefully ignoring Leta’s tears to jut out her chin at this old bird. The midwife clops towards the head of her bed, and places her hand on Tina’s shoulder. For some reason, the kind gesture is foreboding instead of comforting. 

“If we go through with this,” She murmurs, her blue watery eyes grave, “I’m afraid you’ll only have a small chance of survival, very small Mrs Scamander,”

“Even with magic?” Tina’s voice sounds like a tiny child, instead of like the mother she now is.

“Even with magic,” The midwife agrees sadly. Her fingers vaguely brushing over her forehead, as if testing her temperature. However, they’re a bit too light, a bit too soothing, “Without magic I wouldn’t give you a chance at all,” 

‘I’m going to die,’ The words come easily, and simply like waves flowing over sand. Tina stares blankly round the room. Have the colours in this world always been so bright? So vibrant? So miraculous? But her sons will, survive. They’ll have Newt to guide them. He’ll make sure to tell them about her. About all their adventures together. Tina smiles shakily. She’ll be alive. In their memories, she'll be alive. Tina turns to her distraught sister-in-law, and gathers her breath. 

“Tell them I love them Leta,” Tina’s surprised to find her voice is quite normal, if a bit foggy with tears, “Arthur, Merlin, every day if you can,” Leta’s mouth works its way around the name ‘Merlin’ and she smiles sweetly. Her head nods up and down.

"I'll look out for them," Leta croaks, looking determined. Tina relaxes marginally. Leta will be there. The boys will need a motherly influence, and she's never met a better mother than her sister-in-law. 

“And tell Newt,” Tina finds that words leave her, and she looks down fighting to control herself. She won’t even get to say goodbye. She never told him she loved him. Why didn’t she ever say it? ‘I suppose,’ Tina sighs, ‘Because it was always there, as vibrant and as warm as the sun,’ She never thought she was going to run out of time. Tina brings up her hand, pressing a kiss to the ring that mounts her finger. If she tries hard enough she can pretend it is Newt’s lips. ‘I love you, my Sweetheart, I’ll love you till time runs out,’

“Tina,“ Leta tries, her face bloodless. Tina shakes her head, biting down on her ripped bottom lip. She doesn’t want to be convinced into anything. Not now. 

“Promise me you’ll tell them all that I love them Leta,” She speaks firmly and sharply up to her shuddering sister-in-law. Tina’s eyes are strangely dry. She should be crying, why isn’t she crying? Leta is. Deep shuddering sobs that cause her whole frame to rattle. 

“Promise me,” Tina shakes her sister in laws hand so violently, Tina’s sure it will fall off. Leta daps at her eyes. 

“I…I promise,” Leta murmurs, placing one hand to her heart. Tina nods, laying her head back on her pillow. She’ll be dead, but they’ll all be alive. Newt will be able to get them all out. To their castle, then to the continent, Spain perhaps. Somewhere without the threat of Grindlewald and Queenie. Somewhere they can be a family. Be happy. Tina squeezes her eyes shut, sending up a quick prayer. ‘Please my loves, be happy. Your Mama will always be watching,’ 

A smile breaks out over her lips. She’ll be able to see her own Mama soon. Her Father. Won’t that be lovely. 

“Lady Scamander?” It’s the stern midwife again, staring down at her knowingly. 

“Do it, do whatever you need to,” Tina tells her honestly, “Save my boy, please,” She places two hands on stomach. It’ll be worth it. Nothing could be more. Her son’s life for hers; that’s a fair trade. 

“As you wish, My Lady,” The midwife bows to her, before turning to bark orders at her clutch. Tina holds out her hand, and Leta takes it. She wants to close her eyes, but doesn't. She doesn't want her last look of this world be the back of her eyelids. No. She'll face it straight on, in the light. 

\-------------------------------------

Theseus is collapsed on his leafy chair, looking horrified. Newt himself rubs his forehead. He still can’t believe what he’s heard. Credence nods solemnly from his tree stump, looking incredibly grave. He spins his knife nervous between his fingertips. Newt wishes he equally had something else to play with. They’ve been away far too long. It must be getting close to midnight. Tina will be worried where he is. 

“Can you repeat that?” Theseus asks, pulling himself up with clear effort, as he’s wasted the rest on being shocked. 

“They’re not here to kill you, well not all of you a least,” Credence explains once again. The shadows under his eyes are darker than the leaves under their feet. Newt checks his pulse, just in case it’s not a dream. But no, still beating hard. He is not dead. This is not a dream. 

“They want to brainwash the younger ones, the children,” Credence keeps going, refusing to look at the brothers, “Get them to come over to Grindlewald’s side,” He flings his knife in the ground with a fury. 

“Queenie’s going to help him,” The young boy says, pain written in every word. It’s clear the youngest Goldstein’s sister’s betrayal isn’t just affecting Tina, “With her mind-reading powers it’ll be all too easy to make them change their minds,” 

“Kill us and take our children…” Theseus croaks, his fingers pale where they’re clenched round his kneecaps. Newt places his head between his own knees, struggling to contain the sick swirling inside his throat. The thought of his children being ripped from Tina breast makes him growl deeply in this throat. For a moment setting Rodger on the lot of them doesn’t seem like a poor idea. 

“Why didn’t they brainwash you?” Theseus asks puzzled. Newt too raises his eyebrows at the young man. It would take a hell of a restraint not to fall to Grindlewald’s influence. Credence chews of this for a minute, clearly swirling it around his brain. 

“My memories,” He eventually admits simply, “Of Tina mostly, she…she’s the most loyal person I know, she wouldn’t have given up, so I knew I couldn’t either,”

“She never gave up on you,” Newt promises him honestly, “She always said you were on our side,” Credence smiles for the first time since they’ve met him. It cracks through his face, giving his tired face a lightness, a youth that hadn’t been there before. Newt has no doubt this was once a cheeky, light hearted young man, that he can already see Tina telling off dotingly. ‘She knew it too,’ Newt thinks wondrously. ‘I had doubts, but Tina never gave it a second thought.’ He was her brother and that was that. Merlin, he should tell her more often. That she’s the most incredible person he’s ever known. 

Speaking of which. The shadows have got longer, the air colder. Newt rubs his arms, his wedding ring catching on his woollen coat. 

“We better be getting back,” Newt stands up, drumming his wand impatiently against his thigh, “Tina might need me,” He looks back. From where they stand he can just see the tips of the Hogwart’s turrets over the of the tree tops. Most of the lights are completely out. Theseus gets up as well, slapping him on the shoulder. 

“Can I come back with you?” Credence struggles to his feet, brushing of a heap of dead leaves from the seat of his pants. Newt meets his brother’s eye. Theseus winces. 

“No,” His brother sighs deeply. 

“Why not?” Credence is clearly put out, his lips sticking out in a childish pout. 

“Because we don’t think our defences are going to be good enough to hold of an attack,” Theseus admits at wand point. Newt nods, kicking down the guilty mess crawling in his stomach. 

“Oh no,” Credence looks equally crestfallen and confused, “But the prophecy?” Newt stares. The prophecy. More people know that insane poem Dumbledore recited all those months ago? Does it really have that much control over their lives? 

“What prophecy?” Theseus asks blankly. 

“Fire and blood,” Newt replies darkly. He can feel his brother’s look against his spine, but aptly ignores it to study his cuticles. ‘Fire and blood’. Will the fire be Hogwart’s castle burning? The blood their own? Or will Newt be murdering thousands of people on top of his scaly stead?

A strange chill rushes over him, bruising his bones blue and causing him to hiss. 

“Newt are you alright?” Theseus asks him, as Newt desperately tries to rub off the sudden biting cold. 

“I’m not sure,” Newt’s eyebrows furrow, “I just felt incredibly... cold for some reason,” He trails off puzzled. The other two haven’t seem to be effected. He must have gotten caught in a strange down blast or something. 

“Look Credence, don’t come with us,” Newt compels the man. If it’s going to happen like he says it is, it’s crucial he doesn’t stay here. Tina would never forgive him if he let Credence be caught in the oncoming onslaught, “Head north, up to my castle,” 

“What about you lot?” Credence asks them both intently, clearly thinking of his sister. 

“If there’s hundred thousand troops… we’ll have to retreat,” Theseus glares pointedly at his brother, and Newt grinds his teeth together, throwing his hands deep into his pocket, “We’ll be there soon ourselves, then we can come up with another plan,” 

Credence nods. Then, all in a rush, thin arms encircle round Newt’s frame. The magizoologist hugs the young wizard back hesitantly, this much attention from a stranger not his favourite thing. Credence barely seems to notice however and squeezes so hard, the bones of his ribs pop. 

“Thank you,” Credence mumbles into Newt’s ear before releasing him. “Give Tina my love,” Newt makes sure to pull in a deep breath before nodding. ‘I want to give her my love to,’ He says to himself, ‘You must forgive me if I give her mine first,’ Newt bounces on his toes, itching to get moving again. 

“We will,” Theseus speaks for him, also clapping the young wizard on the back, “Soon you’ll be able to tell her yourself,” 

“Yeah,” Credence smiles again. Theseus does as well. Newt can’t seem to get his lips to move. ‘You’re getting yourself worked up for nothing,’ He chastises himself firmly, ‘She’s fine, she promised she’d be fine,’ Yet still he doesn’t smile. And the crude ache in his chest doesn’t lift. In fact, it gets harder, almost suffocating him as it presses against his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	25. The long night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt returns to find Tina and their children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Next chapter is up.  
> Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Thank you so much for Oceanicflights for betaing!

Newt walks over Hogwart’s lawns, his steps heavy, his mind unsure. The French joining Queenie and Grindelwald? A barrage of 100,000 men marching to their gates. How could they possibly defeat 100,000 men? Why on earth did it take them so long to see the light? If only Queenie hadn’t lost her mind, to join such an abhorrent, sinful…could this boy Credence be lying? But then, why would he? He must have had risked it all for such a short meeting. Newt rubs his hands over his face. Theseus presses his hand comfortingly on his back. The brothers huddle together for warmth. The wind is blowing icy and it batters against them, as it begins to rain. Wet splotches splatter on their faces as the guards move to let them pass. 

“What do you reckon Newt,” Theseus asks dully, “Call the banners? Is it even worth it?” 

“Don’t say that,” Newt murmurs immediately, “We must keep hope,” His brothers hand falls to his side. 

“Don’t talk to me about keeping hope,” Theseus explodes, his voice ringing in the night air, “You’re the one who could save us all, if you set your bloody promises aside,” Newt bites his tongue to prevent himself from screaming.

Rodger looks up from his place in the courtyard and huffs out a burst of hot steam that causes the rain falling from the sky to sizzle. He forces himself to breath, slowly; through his nose and out his mouth. 

“At least let me go to Tina first,” Newt tells his brother sternly. Theseus opens his mouth to object, but Newt halts him with a look, “We’ll talk about it all later,”

Theseus shrugs and gazes up at the sky. 

“I don’t think there’s going to be much more ‘later’,” He mutters, wiping the spats of water of his brow harshly with the back of his hand. Newt grates his teeth together and tries his best not to think about it. 

The bells begin to toll. Bong, bong, bong. Their sound vibrates the ground beneath their feet. Bong, bong, bong. 

“It’s later than I thought,” Theseus shivers, “I didn’t think it was midnight yet,”  
Newt takes in the length of their shadows and their direction under the moon. It couldn’t be much past ten. 

“It’s not,” Newt informs him slowly, “At least not yet,” Theseus’ eyebrows furrow in confusion. Bong, bong, bong. 

“I wonder why then,” The elder Scamander murmurs, turning to the watch tower. A faint outline of a man diligently swinging on a rope is just visible. Bong, bong, bong. Theseus chuckles reminiscently. 

“You know I haven’t heard bells like this since the night you were born Newton,” His brother slaps him hard on the back, knocking the breath out of him, “They went for so long and were so loud I thought I’d gone- what?” Newt has fallen in on himself, his nose to his knees. He’s panting so hard he can barely see through the cold air turned to steam by his hot breaths. Merlin, he swore he’d be there. Merlin, no, God please let them be alright. 

“Newt, what’s wrong?” Theseus asks him, a warm concerned hand on his arm. Newt was frozen to the ground, but his brother’s touch ruminates in him. The adrenalin swimming in his veins, he turns to action. He almost falls to his face with his desperation to jump up the stairs. Nervous tears sting at his eyes, but Newt brushes them distractedly away to focus on pumping his arms. 

“Newt!” Theseus is shouting from below his heels, “Where are you going?” 

“Tina!” Newt huffs, taking the steps two at a time. Servants push their backs into the walls as they fly pass. 

“Oh Merlin!” Theseus bursts out laughing, “Good god, congratulations Newt!”  
Newt nods, his mouth a thin line of determination. 

“A boy,” Theseus is chattering behind him, “They only ring the bells for a boy,” 

‘They also rang the bells when mother died,’ Newt thinks grimly. He runs faster, harder, until finally the brothers make it to their bedroom door. 

The great wooden door is closed to outsiders. But what’s sitting on a newly conquered bench outside makes Newt gasps with relief. An emerald green bassinet sits next to a woman nursing a bundle. He can just catch a glimpse of ginger hair poking out from the wet nurse’s breast, a tiny hand reaching out. Newt stumbles over to her.

“My lord,” The woman whimpers. Her nose is bright red. 

“Is he finished?” Newt asks her quietly, his nerves jumping out of her skin, “Is he full, is he healthy?”

“Yes, my lord,” The girl mumbles. She holds up the bundle and Newt takes it gingerly, his heart pounding out of his chest. 

His son gives a tiny yawn, before opening his eyes to blink up at him. His eyes are a brilliant green, but Newt has a deep suspicion they’re going to turn brown. He hopes so. A beautiful dark brown like his mothers. A tuff of ginger hair rests on his head. His hair, he realises tearfully. Newt leans down and presses his lips to his tiny forehead. He’s never loved anyone more than this tiny little person. 

“Hello,” Newt whispers softly, a wide smile graces his face and pulls at his cheeks, “Hello Arthur, I’m your father,” The tears do come then, running down Newt’s cheeks and soaking his collar. Theseus leans over and tickles his chest. Arthur squirms. 

“’Ello lad,” He says wetly, “I’m your uncle,” The Scamander men smile at each other for a moment. Then another high pitched cry splits through the air. Newt turns flabbergasted to his bedroom door. Theseus claps him on the shoulder.

“Twins” He croaks, a tinge bitter-sweetly, “Leta knew it,”

Newt moves towards the door numbly, freely letting Arthur naw gummily on his fingertips. 

“No, my lords, please,” Both wizards turn to look astounded at the distressed nurse. The young girl wrings her hands, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. A thread of fear runs through Newt’s heart. 

“Why not?” Theseus asks aloofly and the girl gapes at him soundlessly like a fish. She seems unable to meet either of their eyes. 

“Newt,” A hoarse voice croaks from the doorway. Leta stands there, holding a bucket in her hands. Her hair is stuck to her sweaty forehead and dark circles lie under her eyes. 

The bucket is dripping with thin, thready vomit and her skirts and sleeves are drenched in blood. Blood. Tina’s blood. The world spins. Newt feels shaky hands taking Arthur off him. Just in time as well, for Newt falls against the wall and retches. Warm, gently fingers thread through his hair. Newt lets out a loud sob. Tina loves petting his hair. 

“What happened?” He cries, looking up distraught. Theseus too turns to his wife, bouncing baby Arthur anxiously. Leta shrugs hopelessly, her hand falling flat on Newt's scalp. 

“The first darling came out fine,” Her eyes are wracked with grief, “But the second one…It was either the baby or neither of them,” Newt feels the blood drain from his face. He straightens on shaky legs. 

“What are you saying?” He asks his old friend faintly. Leta shakes her head softly. 

“I’m so sorry Newt,” Leta murmurs painfully, “But they don’t think she’s going to make it,” 

Newt blinks. The newly born baby’s squeal have risen to indignant wails. He looks between his siblings. Leta has begun to cry. Theseus is grim faced. Both look resigned. His brother even goes as far to look sympathetically down at his child. Hot tears pour down Newt’s face. He bites down fiercely on his tongue. Tina can’t die. She won’t. She’s strong. She’s the strongest woman he knows. And he hasn’t told her yet. Newt presses his lips together. They taste like salt. Tina would never die. Not while her children need her. 

“No, no,” Newt shakes his head angrily, “you’re lying, I don’t believe you,” He takes Arthur so violently off Theseus that the baby begins to fuss. Newt turns on his heel and opens his bedroom door. 

The room stinks of death. It’s a pungent, sweet smell that makes Newt recoil. The bed has been stripped somehow. Newt knows because at the feet of the two midwifes lies a ball of bloodied balled up bedding. They whisper to each other, while washing some terrifying looking utensils. One looks up and her eyes widen. 

“You shouldn’t be in here,” She calls out rudely, “This is women’s business,” 

Newt ignores her, almost waltzing towards the bed. She’s under a quilt of some sorts. A childish one, made of large mismatched squares. Newt realises with a sob it was the one she’d been working on, for the children’s bedroom. He didn’t even know she’d brought it. A baby has been laid next to her, tucked in around her arm wrapped loosely in fabric. Their face is screwed up and they screams lustily waving two tiny fists in the air.

Tina doesn’t even flinch. Her face is pale and thin on the open mattress. Her arms lying limp. There are dark circles drawn under her eyes. The only sign of life at all is the gradual rise and fall of her chest. 

“Love,” Newt moans, falling down on the chair beside her. She places Arthur tenderly on her other side, in the crook of her free arm. Arthur stares up at him curiously. His other child is too busy screaming to notice his presence when Newt presses a kiss to their cheek. It’s deadly cold on his lips. 

“It’s a boy,” The midwife says briskly, “Twin boys, Lord Scamander,” 

“And Lady Scamander?” Theseus asks coldly. Newt looks up, squeezing his hands together tight enough to burn. 

They consider Tina firmly, through cool and narrowed eyes. 

“If she makes it through the night she may live,” One of them nods decisively, “But it’ll be a long night,” 

The walk out of the room, heels stamping in time. Newt barely notices. He’s busy counting Tina’s breaths. In and out, in and out. ‘All you’ve got to do is that love, alright?’ He tells her silently, ‘all through the night, and then you’ll be fine,’ He looks between his sons; one big, one small, one dark haired, one light, one silent, one bawling. ‘You’ve got to be there for them, Arthur and Merlin, please Tina, please,’ 

“I’ve sent a quick note to Jacob and the children,” Leta winces sympathetically, “About the babies as well, two beautiful boys,” She chokes up again, and Theseus kisses her forehead. 

“She wanted to call him Elise if he was a girl,” Newt says to no one in particular, taking Tina’s hand. It’s clammy and cold to the touch. Her pulse flutters under her fingertips, there but weak. Oh so weak, “I wanted to call her Guinevere,” Someone lets out an inappropriate burst of laughter. It’s Theseus, with his arm around Leta who’s sobbing against his chest. Newt smiles sadly, tucking a piece of hair behind Tina’s ear. 

“Tina said no, we couldn’t have an Arthur and Guinevere, at least not at the same time,” Newt says wryly, “she said next time, our next child,” Tears squeeze out of his eyes again. He presses his head to their enclosed hands, rocking back and forth. 

“Next time Tina, you said next time,” Newt cries helplessly, kissing her fingertips. Tina doesn’t move, though he think her cheeks twitch a little. He watches and he waits. But no. That just must be his imagination.

“Do you want us to leave?” Leta asks him gingerly. Newt turns to their crestfallen faces. He nods, a minuscule amount before turning back to his wife. He hears them leave, and the door shut softly. Merlin’s sobs have trailed off into soft whimpers. He must have finally tired himself out. Arthur is already snoozing, one finger wrapped round one of Tina’s curls. 

“Do you know why I made them leave,” Newt tells Tina quietly, as if they were talking to each other in bed. Properly, instead of like...like this, “I wanted to let us have a moment alone, with our family,” She doesn’t move. Newt lets out a breath of humourless laughter. 

“Look Tina,” He murmurs, his voice breaking, “We’ve got our family, you did brilliantly love, absolutely brilliant,” Her dark eyelashes lie flat against her cheeks. Newt smiles at his children, tears plopping down onto the bare mattress. 

“Tina you said you’d be there, their first word, first steps, first time seeing the creatures,” He sniffs passionately, “And you need to be, they need you, I need you, I…” Newt brushes the back of his hand across her cheek. She’s always been beautiful. But with their children lying next to her… Newt could’ve hung the moon for her at this moment. But he’d be satisfied with just getting her to smile. Well really, he’d be satisfied with her hearing what he’s got to tell her, most desperately. 

“I love you Porpentina Scamander,” Newt whispers, clapping her hand to his heart, “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it, but I love you, I love you and I love our children and I need you to live Tina please,” He rubs his thumb against the back of her hand. Merlin snuffles against her side, his face contorting into a yawn. Arthur is fast asleep, but he’s adorable enough that she should be awake. They both are. 

Tina should be holding her children right now. Cooing at them. Quarrelling with him on why he took so bloody long. Asking him about Credence. Fawning over their children. Worrying that she only made one blanket. Newt should’ve come up to find her awake, to be able to kiss her, to congratulate her, to tell her he loves her while her brilliant eyes are sparkling. Instead his wife is a corpse. A corpse that every now and again happens to breathe.

Newt waits. He watches. He doesn’t know what he was expecting to happen after his confession. A sign perhaps? That Tina heard him. A weak squeeze of his hand. A trembling of her lips. Newt’s deepest hope was that her eyes would open, that she would look at him, look that them all. That she would croak out his name, caress the top of Arthur and Merlin’s heads. Slowly gain in strength, until she was strong enough for him to embrace her. Till Tina was strong enough that she could embrace them all. 

Her chest rises and falls weakly. Her lips are pale. Newt can see where she was biting at them. Tina’s hand stays limp. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t make a sound. Newt gently moves her hand he’s holding safety back to the mattress. He gets quietly up, he doesn’t want to disturb her, and walks around to pick up Merlin from Tina’s over side. 

“Hello little bean,” Newt smiles down at his other son lovingly, “Don’t you look just like your Mama,” He does too. Creamy white skin, a thin crop of dark hair, small and slight. Newt runs a finger over his forehead and down to his chin where there’s a sweet little dimple. She has a strange knowledge that his smile is going to be identical to hers. If Tina dies, will it hurt for the rest of his life to look at his son? Newt tries his best to shake off these uncomfortable thoughts, carrying his little bundle back to his chair. He sits down carefully, before turning to baby Arthur. 

“Now how are we going to do this, eh?” Newt asks his children wryly. None of the babies are particularly helpful. Merlin sneezes, and Newt chuckles sadly.

“Right then, come here my love,” Newt whispers to Arthur. He slowly maneuverers the slumbering babe, until he’s caught in the crook of his elbow. It’s hard with a babe already safe in the other, but eventually Newt manages it. 

“Now, this will be much easier when your Mama is awake,” He informs then shakily. Newt looks quickly over to Tina. She’s still lifeless, but the steady rise and fall of her chest steadies his nerves a little. ‘She’s not dying,’ He tells himself firmly, ‘She’s just sleeping. All we have to do is wait till she wakes up,’ His sons shift in his arms, and Newt smiles down at them helplessly. They’re so perfect. So beautiful. Newt can’t find it in himself to blame her. He knows for certain; he would also give his life to save their darling children. 

“Hello, my little ones,” Newt rocks them gently, "Let me tell you a story, a story of how I met your Mama," Neither Arthur or Merlin react, but he knows they can hear him. 

"It's a funny story actually," Newt looks over at Tina dotingly, "We first met each other on our wedding day. I knew from the first moment I saw her she was the most beautiful creature I ever saw," 

Newt talks until the first rays of sunshine begin to peak through the window, shinning across Tina’s cheek bones. She doesn’t react, even when the light shines, in what must be an irritating manner over her eyes. Her breaths are still even. Her heart must still be beating. But Tina’s still as lifeless as she was when he first saw her. Newt presses his lips together, trying his best not to cry.

‘Was it my fault?’ Would she have lived if he were with her? Maybe the reason Tina lost her strength was because Newt wasn’t there to hold her hand. If he’d stuck to his guns, stayed with her. Theseus could’ve found Credence by himself. Newt’s thighs begin to shake. ‘I should’ve been stronger. Tina wouldn’t have left me. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault,’ Arthur squirms in his arms, his cheeks reddening. In some ways Newt hopes he cries. Perhaps Tina will wake up if their boys scream. He wouldn’t blame then if they started. He feels like screaming himself. 

“L-lord Scamander?” A tentative voice squeaks. Newt turns to find two women standing in the doorway. One of them he remembers from before. It was the one nursing Arthur. They smile at him tentatively. They both seen incapable of looking to Tina. He can see how their eyes determinedly refuse to stray to her bed. Newt turns away, stifling either a rude comment or a yawn. 

“What are you doing here?” Newt asks them blearily. His arms are almost throbbing with the tension of holding his sons. But he’s not putting them down.

“We were sent here to feed the children, M’lord,” One of them pipes up. Newt shuts his eyes tight. Tina wanted to feed their children. They hadn’t even hired a wet nurse, even with many unsolicited offers. But he doesn’t want Arthur or Merlin to go hungry. They’re more important than his pride. 

“Of course you are,” He tries his best to sound amicable. The women seem to take this as permission, and they quickly walk up to take his children from him, “Make sure they’re fed for her,” Newt presses a soft kiss to each of his son’s heads. One of the women lets out a wet gasp. Her eyes are red, and she looks like she’s been crying.

Newt presses his fingernails hard into his palm. No one should be crying yet, no one should be mourning. Tina is not dead. 

“Don’t go too far,” Newt calls out to their receding footsteps, “I want them to be here when she wakes up,” He takes Tina’s hand again. It’s slightly warmer than before. Newt tries his best not to get up too much hope. It could’ve easily have warmed up from the sun. He kisses her fingertips again, before leaning his heavy head on her soft mattress. Newt doesn’t even look up when he feels another presence come into the room. 

“Newt,” Theseus arms come round him from behind, wrapping him in a warm hug. His brother sounds like he’s recovering from a cold. Newt feels the cold sting of betrayal, as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. No, he tells himself as he leans hopelessly back into his brother sobbing, don’t. You’re not allowed to break. Tina wouldn’t break. He forces himself to control himself, taking deep shuddering breaths and wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. 

“Tina’s still breathing,” Newt almost shouts forcefully, “She’s still alive, she’s made it through the night, she’s going to make it,” Theseus leans down next to his chair. His face is carefully blank as he takes in Tina’s unconscious body. 

“Has she woken up?” Theseus asks expressionlessly. Newt turns away from him, gritting his teeth. His brother stands up shakily. He leans over Tina carefully, kissing her brotherly on the forehead. Theseus turns to press a fatherly hand on Newt’s shoulder. 

“You must be so tired,” Newt shakes his head, but Theseus refuses to yield, looking him deep in the eye, “I’ll stay here for a while and look out for her while you go get some sleep okay?” Newt brushes his brothers hand off him furiously. 

“I’m not leaving her,” Newt spits, trying to look round his brother’s bulk to focus his whole attention on his wife, “I wasn’t there for her, so I’ve got to be here for her now”

“Newt it was not your fault,” Theseus tells him gently. Newt’s truly grateful he’s not getting mad at him. He’s sure he’d be getting frustrated if their roles were switched. But he’s not leaving. He won’t leave until he knows. Until he knows she’s going to be okay. 

“I wasn’t there for her,” Newt repeats stubbornly, “And I’m going to be here for her when she wakes up,” He wipes his tired eyes with his sodden sleeves, taking a deep breath through his nose. Newt tries not to notice how warm his body feels. How weak, suffering the effects of a night with no sleep. 

“I’ll bring you up a mattress,” Theseus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, “And some breakfast, okay?” He smiles weakly. Newt looks firmly straight ahead, rubbing his thumb over the back of Tina’s lifeless hand. Theseus maneuverers himself out from between Newt’s chair and the bed. His footsteps are slow and heavy plods as he makes his way towards the bedroom’s door. Guilt twists itself around Newt’s throat, smothering him. 

“Thanks Theseus,” He speaks up repentantly, turning slightly to meet his brothers’ eye. Theseus nods at him understandingly. 

“You’re welcome,” Theseus nods at him gratefully, before leaving, shutting the door with a soft snap. Newt turns back to his labour. Watching his wife breath. He lays his head back on her blankets, his nose brushing her limp arm. 

“I mean it Tina,” Newt whispers, his voice no more than a soft breath, “Take as long as you want,” Tina’s cheeks twitch a little, for certain this time, and he bites down on the inside of his lip That’s the most movement she’s made so far. Can she hear him? 

“Arthur and Merlin will be back soon,” He tells her passionately, a hopeful burst of energy rushing through him, “And we’re going to stay here with you okay? So you’ll never be alone not even for a moment,” Newt watches and waits, his heart in his mouth. 

But Tina stays still. Her cheeks do not move again. Newt moans, rubbing his head against the blanket she worked so hard on. 

“I love you,” He announces mournfully, “And I want to you wake up my darling, please,” Newt looks up, tears rolling down his face. The room is as still and as silent as a tomb. Tina does not move. Her dark hair that curls round her shoulders has more life than she has at the moment. Newt looks down again, resting his head on her hand. The cool bite of her wedding ring digs into his skin. 

“Please Tina, please,” Newt shudders, hot tears dribbling down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	26. Dragon fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Sorry it took so long! I didn't mean it to be, but there you are.   
> Writers block is incredibly annoying.   
> Hope everyone enjoys!

Newt hums under his breath, rocking the cot they’ve place in their bedroom. Arthur sleeps with his tiny mouth open, flat out on his back, and wriggles in his blankets. Merlin is curled up on one side, his thumb tucked safely in his mouth. Tina’s blanket is thrown over the top of them, and for the tenth time that night, Newt feels tears swim to his eyes.

“They’re so sweet love,” He turns towards the bed, “I can’t wait for you to see them,” Tina still lies lifeless on the mattress. 

Newt wants to say she’s gotten a little better. Her cheeks are more warm. Her cheeks twitch more often now. Her pulse is strong. But Tina’s eyes still haven’t opened. Instead she’s in a sleeping beauty state of unconsciousness. Looking perfectly well, but still not waking up. At the beginning of the week Newt even tried kissing her a bunch of times, but her lack of response made him sadder than he can possibly say. Now his plan is talking to her, holding her hand, making sure she knows she’s not alone. 

One of her nicer midwifes informed him this is extremely helpful, and that Tina can hear everything he says. The other, the one with eyes like steel, has informed Newt that if she stays like this any longer the nicest thing to do would be to put her out of her misery. Newt has taken the first midwifes opinion to heart. He refuses to think about the second. 

A soft knock makes him turn his head. It’ll either be Theseus, Leta or one of the midwifes. Newt, for the sickening seven days, has been refusing to see anyone else.

“I guess we’ll have to open it,” Newt sighs pensively to Tina. He shuffles towards the door, reluctantly pulling it open. Leta stands in the doorway holding a tray. Newt’s hand jumps sheepishly to his hair. It must’ve been later than he thought. He promised he’d come down to dinner tonight. Not that he was going to go. But he was going to send an apologetic note. 

“Hi Leta,” Newt quickly takes the tray from her, a waterier stew than normal. Supplies must be almost at their limits, “Thanks,” He refuses to meet the eye, setting the tray down on Tina’s beside table. Newt sits down beside his wife, taking her limp hand.

“Newt,” Leta sounds more awkward than he’s ever heard her. Her uncomfortable tone is enough to make him look to her, “Please…come down tomorrow, I don’t like seeing you like this,” 

“Like what?” Newt asks dismissively, inwardly brushing her concerns away. his thumb brushing over his chin. The hair growing in small spikes scratching his skin. 

“When’s the last time you shaved?” Leta asks her eyebrows raised to high heaven. Newt subconsciously raises his hand to his face. It’s not yet a beard, but it’s not merely stubble either. 

“It’s alright,” Newt replies his thumb brushing over his chin. The hair growing there is like small spikes, and they scratch at his skin, “Tina won’t mind too much,” He touches the back of his hand to her cheek. Tina seemed to like the burn. And he liked seeing her face, her thighs, all red and raw from his attentions. Leta stares at him as if he’s the stupidest person she’s ever met, but also like she wants to hug him. 

“What?” Newt asks her, not really wanting to know the answer. ‘Don’t try to be like Tina, you're not her,’ He pleads with her, ‘Do what you normally do, soften the truth,’ 

“Newt,” Leta wheedles, her features clenched in pain. She places her hands on Tina’s bedstead, as if her words have cause to make her hang onto something, “Theseus and I have been meaning to talk to you…” She flings her gaze towards the side. Clearly she can’t stand to look at him. Newt waits impatiently for the lecture that’s sure to come. He focuses on a spot on the wall, not planning to take his eyes off it until she’s finished. 

“What is that?” Leta peers out the window, her eyebrows pinched together. She walks towards the frame and flings the glass open. A cool wind fills the room, and Newt shivers, standing up to look with her. The dark forest outside glitters with barely concealed lanterns. If there were one or two they might have been missed, but there seems to be hundreds of them; like fireflies on a summer evening. Newt quickly jogs to the other side of the room, to where there’s another window pointing out to the other side of the castles grounds. He can see Rodger slumbering in one corner of the courtyard. And past the tall walls more lights shine. If Newt squints he thinks he can just catch the flash of sharp iron catching in the fire light. 

“Grindlewald’s army,” Newt croaks, the air leaving his body, “They’ve come,”

“Oh god,” Leta presses a hand to her suddenly clammy looking forehead, “We’ve not got the children out yet,” 

“Is the plan still in place?” Newt turns to her decisively, aptly ignoring the anxiety pumping through his veins, “For me to fly them to my castle?”

“Yes of course,” Leta brushes down her dress anxiously “I’ll go inform them, they’ve got to be ready,”

“Right, good,” Newt replies distractedly. He’s got to find his riding gear. He dearly hopes it isn’t under Tina’s clothes, he doesn’t think he could bare looking through them. They still smell like her, not this ghost, but real, living, loving, smiling her. Newt turns back to his wife, one hand curling round his children’s cot. He’s going to have to leave them. A warm hand brushes his sleeve.

“I’ll also organise some men to protect her,” Leta promises thickly. She looks over at where Arthur and Merlin are slumbering and smiles thinly, “Protect them,” Leta leans over, pulling their blankets up more snugly around them. 

“What are you talking about?” Newt asks, his throat suddenly dry. Leta rolls her eyes, so hard it must’ve hurt.

“Newt you’re hardly going to be able stay with Tina while you ferry people back and forth,” She argues plaintively, “And I swore Tina that I'd look after those two,” Leta's fingers dance over the slumbering boys. Newt's heart clenches. What if something happens while he's away. Even if he is flying Rodger, if the solider's break into Hogwarts...He'd never be willing to set the building aflame. So he'd be stuck, watching from above as his entire family gets knifed down.

“But what if the army comes?” Newt stutters, his hands tugging at his clothes, his anxieties finally taking over, “What if they break through the walls?” He falls against a wall, his back thudding hard into the rough blue stones. Newt buries his face in his hands. He can't not ferry off the children to safety. But he can't leave his family alone either. A lot can happen in the two hours it's going to take him to fly to his castle and back. Newt might only be able to do one trip if this is how close the army is. 

“Do you know what one of the last things Tina ever said to me was?” Leta asks, all of a sudden. Newt drops his hands to his knees, shaking his head. 

“She wanted to tell you that she loved you,” Leta whispers, her warm eyes smiling at him. Newt’s bottom lip trembles. Tina loves him. She wanted to tell him. He clasps his hands together to prevent them from shaking so hard they fall off. Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

“Why did you tell me that?” Newt whines, burying his head in his knees. He doesn’t know if he felt better before, not knowing. Or now, knowing Tina wanted to tell him but couldn’t. For the millionth time he berates himself. ‘Why on earth wasn’t I there,’ But he could be here now. Newt could save them all. He looks out the window again, to where Rodger is lazily shaking his wings. It would be so easy; destroy them all, keep them all safe. And Rodger himself would love the flight. 

“Because I think I know what you’re about to do,” Leta takes his hand in hers, it's strong where his is sweaty, “And I think you needed to hear that before you do it,” 

“You don’t know what I’m thinking…” Newt tries to nudge her off, but Leta holds fast. 

“Newt if the army gets through, we’re all going to die,” Leta presses him resolutely, “Tina is helpless, your sons are helpless,” The truth hits Newt like a slap in the face. Is he really going to place his ten-year-old promise in front of the lives of his family? 

“If you don’t get on that dragon, then you’re not the man I think you are,” Leta’s bottom lip trembles, and her voice shakes at the word dragon. Newt can tell she’s thinking of the time she accidentally murdered Abernathy. Is that what it’s going to be like, his screams but a hundred thousand times worse? But he’d rather hear those screams than the screams of his children. Than the screams of the entire castle. He’d rather anything than to come back to find Tina hacked to pieces. 

Newt drops his hand into his children’s cot. They’re only seven days old, but both Arthur and Merlin have thin crops of hair over their foreheads. Newt muses the hair on top of their heads, and the raven black and ginger strands stick up. Their father picks up his wand, gently cutting off locks of Arthur and Merlin’s hair.

“Papa loves you,” Newt whispers sweetly in their ears, pressing his thumb to their chubby cheeks.

Newt marches purposely over to Tina’s bed. Her mother’s necklace hangs round her neck. He gently unhooks it off her neck, and places it around his own. Then he unhooks the catch, and carefully places his son’s hair inside. Tina’s lips quiver. Newt tries his best to smile, as he leans down to press a hairs breath away from her lips.

“Wait for me love,” Newt murmurs in her ear, “Don’t leave without me,” A small hum leaves her pink lips. Newt stares, watching, waiting. But as normal Tina doesn’t move again. 

“Newt,” Leta calls impatiently from the door way. Newt gives her, them all, one last look. Then he hurries after his sister-in-law. 

\-----------------------------------------

The clouds are thankfully low and thick. Rodger's wing beats sound to Newt like a thunderclap. But to the men below that’s probably all they think it is. The beginnings of a storm. ‘They’re not entire wrong,’ Newt thinks, the rivets along Rodger’s back pressed hard enough into his palms, hard enough to bleed. A fiery storm. He can hear the army whispering, like wind blowing through some reeds. Newt can’t truly see them, not even a vague flash of armour through the billows of clouds. 

“It’s a good thing,” Newt whispers to himself, his teeth chattering in the freezing breeze, “It means they can’t see me,” 

“To Grindlewald!” One of the men shouts loudly, only to be shushed by half-a-dozen others. 

Newt could feel them. Feel their souls quivering with excitement of the thrill of sneaking up on a bunch of enclosed prey. These men have families, homes, wives, lives that they are expecting to go back to. Newt whistles; a sound that starts low then soars to a high pitch that travels along the wind. Rodger slowly begins to climb into the sky. So high that even the moon grows larger. The worst part is that none of them will be expecting it. None of them will have a chance to say a final prayer, to hug their mates for a final time, or even to raise their blades.

“God forgive me,” Newt whispers into the sky, the rough wind blowing away his words. He whistles again, but this time it sounds like a cannon ball; from so high it hurts, to a low rumble in Newt’s chest.

Rodger dives. 

Newt’s chest is magically attached to the Welsh dragons smooth scaled back. But the descent is so fast, not only does Newt’s cheeks blow backwards but his legs also flail about in mid-air, giving a him a stomach turning sense of weightlessness. This is the type of ride he wanted to take Tina on. She would love it, Newt knows. He adores flying, but his enthusiasm has died with his task. The horrified shouts and screams of men swim in his ears. Newt ducks as dozens of red and green lights of various spells and curses sizzle past his ears. But Rodger flies through them as easy as a hot knife through butter, the dangerous sparks bounce easily off his tough flank.   
‘I’m so sorry,’ Newt thinks desperately. He wants to shut his eyes. But he won’t do the men the injustice of hiding away as he murders them. 

“Tân!” Newt booms. Rodger’s neck rises up, and it glows bright red in the darkness. Newt can feel the scales heat from his perch lower down his back. Then, all of a sudden, the colour disappears to become a mountain of flame which erupts from the dragon’s jaws. 

The forest explodes with smoke and screams. Newt whistles just in time to prevent Rodger brushing the flaming treetops. The Welsh Green may be fireproof but he, the wizard, certainly is not. The flames roar. It would look beautiful if Newt didn’t know right now that thousands of men are escaping for their lives. Tripping over logs, pushing and shoving each other lost in the basic human will; which is to survive.

“Tân!” Newt shouts again. Another long line of flame curls over the forbidden forest. He turns his chin just in time to see a burning tree crack, and fall in, what seems to him, to be slow motion. It lands with a tremendous thud, and agonising cries raise up into the air along with a flurry of sparks. 

Sooner rather than later the forest becomes a sea of red. The flames jump over each other like waves, each one racing the other up into the sky. Newt flies on wings of death, round and round the castles walls, flooding the air with fire. Newt’s yet to see the blood, but he knows his own is sizzling in his veins. Perhaps the prophecy did get something wrong. Does a man bleed if he’s burnt to dust? Finally, Newt soars up into the sky, stretching his sore limbs that have been so long been held to attention. The ground below looks like a fiery eye; A ring of burning fire surrounded by the cool, dark walls of Hogwarts. He can feel it, judging him, for better or for worse. Either way Newt waits for as long as he possible can to land. It’s peaceful in the sky; quiet. And he can forget. Or at least he can try.

\------------------------------

Newt whips himself off Rodger, landing so hard on the ground his ankles buckle. He stumbles, catching himself from falling just in time, aided by the fire still coursing through his veins. He takes a deep breath of clean air. But his hair still smells charred, and Newt hacks trying to rid the smoke from his lungs. Rodger yawns in a tedious manner, and a burst of sparks fly from his nostrils. He stomps in a generous circle, making a nest, before taking a seat that makes the courtyard's stones tremble. 

Hundreds of their own soldiers have come out to watch the bonfire. Theseus must have ordered the troops out in preparation. Most are on the battlements, making sure the flames are flung back with various spells and enchantments. Newt wonders dimly how many of Grindlewald’s men had managed to make it to the castles walls, only to be beat back by their forces. Pure, unadulterated relief turned to unquenchable fear of being surrounded by all sides. How long does it take for a man to burn to death? 

The world seems to glow. It looked much better from above, the burning. From here Newt can see how far the flames have leapt, racing up the leaves. He can feel the heat. It hits him in the face, like a slap, flushing his skin, flaking his lips. Even the ground is like hot coals, and men dance on the stones to escape the risk of burning. It was cool up there in the night air. He could almost forget he caused the destruction himself. Back down on the ground he can’t. It’s enough to make him want to leap into the sky again. 

“It’s beautiful,” A young man with armour, a bit too big for him, announces to his friends.

“It’s horrifying,” Newt snaps, and the men jump back in fright, before bowing with gradual respect. 

“Did you do that M’Lord?” A man Newt recognises as a Weasley by his red hair asks, his sparkling blue eyes as wide as saucers, “With that thing?” he points with a trembling hand to an already snoozing Rodger. Newt huffs through his nose. He doesn’t even know what he’s done, poor creature, he was probably glad for the stretch of wings. Lucky bastard. 

“It’s snowing,” A bemused soldier opens his hand up to the sky. A dozen white flakes float down and land in this out-stretched palm. The man looks on bewildered as the flecks curl up as soon as they touch his skin, blackened round the edges. 

“It's ash,” Newt mumbles, elbowing his way past him, “Ash and skin,” He can still hear them screaming. Just like a chorus in church, the sound rings in his ears. Newt covers his ears, as if that could snuff it out. It can’t of course. It never will. 

His brother is standing white faced in the entrances doorway. His hand grips the doorway tightly. Theseus’ blue eyes flick from Newt’s face, to the flames roaring above them. Newt tiredly flicks soot of his shoulders, as he tries to sidestep him. Theseus catches him firmly by the arm, keeping him in place. Newt tries to take another step, but is thwarted by his brother’s tight grip.

“Is Tina alright?” Newt asks, still struggling against his grip, looking longingly up the stairs. 

“You did it?” Theseus asks, starchily ignoring him, “All this bloody time arguing it, and you just did it?” Newt clenches his fists together. As if such a thing were simple. As if he’s ever going to be able to forget what 100,000 sounded like as they burned. 

“I did,” Newt agrees stonily, “For my boys, for Tina,” He touches the lump under his shirt by his heart. Tina’s necklace didn’t fly off during his journey. Which means Arthur and Merlin’s hair must still be kept tight in the locket. 

“Not for the rest of us living in this castle then,” Theseus states drily. 

“Don’t start,” Newt warns him, “I just saved all our lives, and now I want to return to my family,” He tries to take another step, but Theseus flings him back. Newt meets his eye, confused. Theseus sighs, looking tired. 

“And go back to being a sorry little hermit?” He asks him wearily. Newt jolts backwards with shock and shame. 

“You bastard,” He spits, trembling with injustice. 

“Newt this is not how Tina would want you to be living,” Theseus frowns knowingly down at him, “Have Arthur and Merlin seen your creatures yet? Have they even been allowed to leave that room?” His voice has raised to almost a yell. Newt can feel the soldier’s eyes boring into his back. He can feel them judging him, as a husband, as a father…Newt sees pure red. His hand clenches together, readying himself to slam his fist into his brother’s face. 

A bright light flaps down the stairs. The glowing butterfly bobs between them, almost white against the dark night’s sky and the deep red of the bonfire. 

“It’s Tina,” Leta’s voice is rushed and breathless, “Theseus come back, now!” Her patronus disappears with a flap of a wing, leaving distress in its wake. Tears prick Newt’s eyes. His hands begin to tremble. He stares at them in an abstract way, praying to god that this is a dream. Leta sounded shocked, desperate…what else could mean? Tina, his darling, is dead. He left her side. And she died. 

Newt does fall now, a hand crunching hard against Hogwart’s walls. He did it. He saved them all. But he’s lost his wife. 

“Newt, come on,” Theseus tugs painfully at Newt’s collar, almost choking the air out of him, “It might be good news,“ His brother has poised his comforting sentence as a question. Newt crunches his molars together. 

“Don’t tell me what things might be,” He bites out fiercely, struggling to his feet, “I know what things are…” Theseus stares at him sympathetically, his mouth twisting awkwardly like he isn’t sure what to say. Newt thinks that's fair. He himself doesn’t know what he wants him to say either. 

“I don’t think I can face it alone Theseus,” Newt bites the inside on his cheek, looking down at his toes. His fingers curl around his pant leg, his wedding ring glinting in the firelight. Tear spring to his eyes. Newt lets out a sad giggle. He didn’t think he had any tears left. 

“You won’t be alone Newt,” Theseus promises, sounding choked up himself. He holds out his hand. Newt takes it. Older and younger brother hang onto each other like they’re children again. It’s a nice feeling, a comforting one. Theseus is taking care of him; he is once again, the strong one. They walk as fast as they dare up the stairs. Finally, they reach Newt’s bedroom door. One of the twins is bawling inside, and there’s an undercurrent of activity that’s palatable through the wood. Newt’s skin sweats as it curls around the cool metal handle. He can’t bring himself to turn it. Theseus kisses him softly on the forehead. 

“I’ve got you,” His brother whispers encouragingly. Newt tries his best to smile. His fingers slip round the handle, trying to get the best grip he can in the longest amount of time. Finally, somehow, he gathers the courage to turn the knob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	27. Together again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of the Scamander family meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Here it is. There is no cliffhanger on this one, i have kinda learnt from my ways. You're welcome.   
> Hope everyone enjoys!  
> Unfortunately the last two chapters might take a while, as I'm on placement next week for the next three weeks. But there's only two left, so hopefully it won't take me too long! 
> 
> Thank you so much to Oceanicflights for betaing.

Everything is sore. And sticky But mostly sore. Light pierces through her tired eyelids and Tina groans. Her arms don’t seem to want to move. Eventually her joints squeak upwards and she shields her eyes from the glare. 

“Tina,” Leta gasps, sounding both shocked and overjoyed, “Oh Merlin,” 

“Hmmp,” Tina tries to reply, but her tongue is dry as a bone. She imagines her speech looks like a puff of smoke, speckles blowing into the air. 

“Tina,” Leta says swiftly, her voice bouncing rapidly, “Theseus come back, now!” Tina’s eyes flick open, just in time to see a flash of blue tinged wing leave the doorway. She swears her eyelashes crackle as she blinks into the candlelight. 

“I…” She stutters hopelessly, still not quite able to say anything. ‘I’m alive?’ Tina bites down on her lip, so hard the fragile skin breaks. The last thing she remembers…she’s not sure. Screams, her screaming. Blood, the swell of sick in her mouth. She remembers being tired. Oh so tired. Tina closes her eyes tight. Then opens them again. Yes. That works. She can see. She can breathe. Alive, alive, alive.

But Merlin. What about Merlin? And Arthur. Is he still okay? 

“My babe,” Tina struggles to sit up. Her hands will press flat on the mattress, but her arms are not quite sure they want to lift her weight yet. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Leta runs to her side from where she was clearly yelling something out the door. Her own pair of strong arms wrap around Tina’s shoulders, gently lifting her before placing a pillow under her head. Even the slight incline makes Tina nauseous, and she shuts her eyes tight, waiting for the world to stop spinning. 

Leta’s worried face looms over Tina as she tentatively looks out over the world again. There’s a large bassinet sat in one corner. She strains to see, but can’t manage it. So Tina merely points, silently begging her sister-in-law to fill in the details. Leta’s face breaks out into a splitting smile. 

“They’re fine, they’re both fine, both boys are sleeping,” Leta gently strokes her hair. There’s an air of surprise around her, as if this were a conversation she never expected to have, “Goodness Tina, you gave us quite the scare,” A burst of joy sings in Tina’s heart. Her boys are alive. They’re sleeping, the little darlings. ‘I wonder what they look like when they’re sleeping,’ Tina thinks smiling, ignoring the pain as her misused skin strains, ‘I bet they look just like their Papa,’ Leta nods, as if she can read her thoughts and smiles wider, tears brimming in her eyes. 

Tina’s honest next question is ‘how long have I been asleep?’. However, her mouth is so dry, so barren, that she can’t help but point at her mouth first. 

“Of course,” Leta exclaims abashed, “I’m a complete fool, blubbering on,” She dabs at her eyes, leaning in to press a damp kiss to Tina’s cheek. Then she rushes off, to a cabinet by the window where a jug of water sits. 

The door knob rattles, and both women turn to gaze at it. It stays shut. Leta turns to her with a knowing look in her eye. 

“I’m afraid he’ll be nervous,” She says, entirely unhelpfully to Tina’s curiosity, “I didn’t exactly explain myself properly, but I didn’t know what was happening to you,” Tina opens her mouth, ready to try to inquire about what the hell she is talking about. But the door creaks open before she can get a chance. Two clearly apprehensive figures peak their way around the wooden frame. 

“Tina!” Newt breaths tearfully. Tina stares. 

Her husband looks like a wild caveman. For the first time since their marriage he’s grown out his facial hair and it hangs in patches around his chin, and a moustache graces his top lip. There’s a bloodshot look in his eye. Probably from lack of sleep, for it looks like he’s about to fall to the floor. Theseus slaps him hard on the back and Newt’s whole body trembles. His clothes are hanging off his almost malnourished frame, and so, to Tina’s surprise, is her mother’s necklace. 

“Newt,” Tina croaks as best as she can, her hand flopping against her bare throat. Newt’s bottom lip trembles.

“Oh my love,” He cries racing over to her bedside, throwing himself against her chest. Newt’s laid himself fully on top of her, entwining their legs together. His ruddy hair tickles her chin, but Tina finds her eyes flooding with tears as her husband sobs helplessly into her neck. One of her weak hands is trapped underneath the weight of his cheek, but she lets the other fall to his hair as he convulses with what seems to be relief. 

“M’ okay,” Tina whispers as best as she can. Newt looks up, his eyes shining. His fringe is windswept, and there seems to be a strange sort of greyish dust hanging from his eyelashes. Newt leans himself carefully over her, softly nuzzling their noses together. He smells like smoke. Not just the light tang from a fireplace, but bellows of it; like from a bonfire. 

“I love you Tina,” Newt declares, sounding about as wretched as Tina feels, “I love you so much,” He stares at her, his eyebrows clenched with guilt. Tina’s own twist together. Why does he look so sad? Her own heart if full to bursting. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Tina mumbles, trying to make her voice as strong as she feels, “Newt, I love you too,” Newt begins to cry again. Tears fall off his eyelashes, splashing against her cheeks. 

“Newt,” Tina cocks her head to one side, “What on earth is the matter?” He smiles shakily. His face seems unaccustomed to the motion. Tina smiles back and more tears plop onto her forehead and chin. 

“Nothing,” Newt shakes his head, violently from side to side. Tina shuts her eyes against the torrent to tears that shake onto her as he does so, “Nothing’s wrong anymore,” Then he leans into kiss her. 

His lips are soft and measured. Tina can tell from the underlining tension shimmering in his touch, that he’s holding himself back from ravishing her. For the first time in her life she’s glad he doesn’t try to. Tina doesn’t think she could stay awake through a ravishing at the moment. They part, but Newt doesn’t move away. Instead he swings himself up to sit beside her, one hand placed protectively around her shoulders. Tina sighs appreciatively as his fingers play with her hair, the skin at the base of her neck.   
Newt peppers her hairline with kisses as Leta passes her a hefty glass of water. Tina drinks eagerly, letting the cool sweetness run over her tongue. Theseus claps his hands together, looking delighted. He picks Leta up by the waist, swinging her around to her intense distaste. Tina giggles, and Newt draws her mouth to his once again. 

“What a miraculous night this is,” Theseus grins, ignoring Leta’s verbal abuse (although he does set her down), “Grindelwald’s army defeated, Tina’s finally awake,” Leta brushes down her dress, smiling helplessly at her husband’s happiness. She leans in to kiss Theseus’s cheek, and he grabs his wife’s hand and holds it tight. Newt is busy mumbling, his moustache tickling Tina’s ear. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” 

Tina however is awash with confusion. 

“Grindelwald’s army defeated?” Tina asks breathlessly. The water has made her sound close to normal again, “And what do you mean finally awake?” 

“You’ve been unconscious for seven days my love,” Newt’s hand clenches around her shoulders. Tina gazes stupidly around at them all. Seven days? A whole week, to not be awake. She thought…well she didn’t really what she thought. No wonder Newt’s facial hair has exploded. No wonder he’s caressing her as if she’s made of glass. 

“Seven days?” Tina stutters, still not sure if she believes them. 

A low groan leaves Newt’s throat, and she feels it against her scalp. Tina blinks up at him, to find his face twisted in anguish. She hums, in question, resting her forehead against his jaw. His facial hair is less like the sharp pins she’s familiar with, and more like the beginnings of a soft meadow. He doesn’t look bad with a moustache. 

“I couldn’t leave you undefended,” Newt stares deep into her eyes, seemingly pleading with her, desperately, “I had to do it, you forgive me don’t you?” His hands wrap around her wrists, ironing her to his stomach. Tina’s fingers stretch weakly against his shirt. It feels like it’s burning, his chest under the fabric. Newt feels like he’s half dragon himself. 

“Forgive you?” Tina asks him weakly, “Why would I forgive you?” What on earth has he done? Newt shuts his eyes tight, as if hiding his eyes from a malicious nightmare. 

“I killed them all Tina, a hundred thousand men,” “All awash with dragon fire,” Tina is speechless. She quite honestly didn’t think he’d do it. Or if he did, it would have to take a life shattering event to cause him to break so…’Oh,’ Tina looks down at where her sheets are still neatly pressed around her. There’s no sign of her usual shambles of blankets. She must have truly been like a lifeless corpse. 

“You did the right thing Newt,” Theseus cuts in, sounding incredibly proud, “It was something you had to do,” He looks down at his brother on the bed, looking as pleased as any father. 

“I agree,” Leta affirms her husband’s statement, smiling sweetly at him, “If you didn’t, god knows what would’ve happened,” Newt’s face is still pale, and twitchy. Tina can tell he’s trying to take the praise, but she can also see it bouncing off him like a ball against a wall. She clenches her jaw, feeling what he’s feeling.

“Newt, do you think you did the right thing?” Tina asks him. Newt’s cheeks wobble. Tears squeeze out of his eyes. He shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again. 

“I don’t know…” Newt cries falling into her. Tina wraps her arms around him, humming softly as he sobs again. The clutch each other feverishly. ‘I never thought I would see him again,’ Tina thinks numbly, slowly beginning to cry to, ‘But here we are, safe, with our arms wrapped around each other,’ She presses wet kisses on her furry jaw, and Newt sniffs into her collar bone, calming down a little. 

“Thanks love,” Newt says shakily. Tina shakes her head. He never needs to thank her for being by his side. Her husband smiles at his confused looking siblings, his gaze finally landing on the cot in the corner. A large weight seems to drip of his shoulders, and he turns to her looking fully relaxed for the first time. 

“Do you want to see them?” Newt asks her softly, “Arthur and Merlin?” 

“I don’t…” Tina does. Her arms ache for them. But does she deserve them? Does she deserve to hold them? She abandoned them for a week, her own children. She swore she be there; except she wouldn’t even wake up for the first days of their lives. 

“I told them all about you,” Newt gently strokes her cheek, fiddling with a stray piece of her hair by the side of her face, “I made sure they loved you, just as much as me,” 

“Are you sure?” Tina asks childishly, her chin trembling. Will they recognise her? She doesn’t even know what Merlin looks like. 

“More than sure,” Newt says, in the calming tone he uses with his beasts. Tina nods try to put down the anxiety bubbling up in her stomach. 

“Let’s sit you up,” Newt urges her. He holds out his hand, and Tina takes it, using his strength to pull her up into a sitting position. She doesn’t feel as ill as she did last time, and can actually focus as Theseus and Leta lean down to pick up two tiny bundles.

“Here we go,” Theseus gently places Arthur on Tina’s left knee. He’s grown since she last saw him. Her son sleeps soundly in her lap, a thin graze of freckles across his face and arms. Her gaze shifts to her other son, the one she’s never seen. Leta puts her other son down on the right. Merlin has awoken from being transported, and his dark brown eyes blink up at her. Tina smiles down at his slight features, and creamy skin. A perfect tuft of black hair lies across his scalp. If Arthur is a mini Newt, then Merlin is a mini her. Tina caresses his little cheek, and Merlin squirms, his arms and legs wiggling. 

“Hi,” Tina feels as though she should introduce herself again. Tears swell up in her eyes. She shouldn’t have to familiarize herself with her own children. Tina feels herself begin to curl back, begin to retract into herself. She doesn’t deserve them. How could she? 

“Hey,” Newt shakes his head gently, clearly letting her know; ‘whatever you’re thinking, don’t,’ He presses a loving kiss to her forehead. 

“Look,” Newt hugs her close, “They know you’re their Mama,”

“Do you really think so?” Tina asks him, frantically, needing to know. 

“Don’t ever doubt it love,” Newt says so simply that she can’t help but calm. He would never lie to her. It must be true. She smiles down at her children, rocking her knees gently from side to side. Merlin’s mouth falls open, and Tina just catches a glimpse of his tiny tongue before he presses his thumb in his mouth. 

“Look at you,” Tina mumbles, elated, under her breath. Newt squeezes her shoulder tightly. 

Two midwives stick their heads through the door. One of the softer shyly ones, with strawberry blonde curls. Her eyes keep flicking with an enthralled dismay to the windows. The other is the stern one. But for the first time she’s smiling. Her dark eyes are all for her, and they glitter at her gladly. Tina smiles back at her. She’s a good woman really, just a very practical one. 

“Do you mind if we pop in for a moment?” She asks lightly, holding up a medic kit. 

“Give them a moment,” Leta requests the pair tearfully, before blowing of a handkerchief. 

“Five minutes,” The stern one warns the room, but she happily leaves. Tina watches the other midwife stumble after her in confusion. Tina laughs lightly. She has a feeling this doesn’t happen very often. Leta and Theseus follow them out, and for the first time in a long time the Scamander family is completely alone, as well as completely present. Tina tries her best to take it all in. To sit in it, to remember this moment of complete happiness and wonder that her children are alive, she’s alive, Newt is alive and everyone is safe. Though Tina can’t deny Arthur and Merlin shine brightest in this moment. It’s as if a piece of sunlight shines out from each of them, bathing her in light and Tina cannot look away.

“They’re so beautiful,” She whispers blissfully. 

“How could they not be?” Newt sounds confused by the very thought, “Look at you,” Tina scoffs at his flattery, but blushes all the same. 

“Newt,” Tina tries to gather her words, “I’m sorry,” No matter what happens, she can’t help feeling guilty about leaving them, even though deep in her heart she knows it was out of her control.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Newt says, almost sternly, “You gave birth to our beautiful children, then you came back to us,” He leans in to kiss her on the word ‘us’, his eyes fluttering shut. Tina however ducks away, not thinking he truly understands. 

“But I didn’t think I was going to. I thought I was going to die Newt,” ‘I had planned to leave you, for our sons,’ Tina can’t say it, but she can tell he understands anyway. Newt’s hands clench around her. 

“But you didn’t,” Newt speaks as if doesn’t quite believe it himself yet, “And I’m so glad…” Newt cups her cheek, as words fail him.   
Merlin begins to let out soft whimpers, his face slowly transforming from a soft pink to an angry red.

“Oh sweetling,” Tina coos down at him as he lets out great gulping cries. He’s just perfect. A beautiful boy. She just knew he would be. 

“Merlin’s a crier,” Newt smiles down at his youngest son, “He also loves sucking his thumb,” He gently let’s Merlin’s tiny hand curl around his forefinger

“And Arthur?” Tina asks him, bursting with curiosity. She brushes the back of her hand over the back on his head. Arthur snuggles into her palm, like a perfect angel. 

“He’s a screamer,” Newt states wryly, scratching his growing beard. Tina grins. He’s probably going to hurt her ears, but at the moment he’s quiet and asleep. Besides she’s just as thrilled she’s going to get to hear him shout; because it’ll mean she’ll get to hear him. She’s going to be alive to hear him. 

“They’re both fighters,” Tina leans into Newt’s back, gently curling up her knees to bring their children closer, “Like their Papa,” And it’s the truth. She can’t imagine what kind of courage it took to get on that dragon. To continue even through hearing the screams of people dying. She’s killed men before, and each of one of their faces stayed with her. Tina can’t even imagine what it’s like to kill hundred thousand people. 

“Tina,” Newt sounds as though he’s about to argue with her. She can’t have that. 

“You did what you thought was right at the time,” Tina chides him seriously, pressing her hand comfortingly over his thigh, “That’s all that matters, that’s all that ever matters, okay?” 

“Okay,” Newt smiles weakly, clapping his hand over her own, “I don’t know if I believe you, but okay,” 

“Believe me,” Tina orders him fiercely. Newt doesn’t meet her eye. She rolls her eyes, pressing her thumb to his chin and forcing him to look at her. He does so sheepishly, though he doesn’t look away. In fact, Tina can practically see stress drain out of his features as they gaze at each other. 

“I love you Newt,” Tina beams happily at him. Mercy Lewis it feels good to say. Newt smiles back, cuddling her into his chest. 

“I love you too, Tina,” He replies, so much warmth flooding his voice that it’s like sinking into a hot bath.

“And I love you,” Tina leans down pecking Arthur's cheek, “And you,” She nuzzles Merlin’s forehead. Newt leans down picking up Arthur and holding him to his chest. Tina does the same to Merlin, cradling him as gently as a flower petal. 

“Our family Tina,” Newt mumbles under his breath, “Anything is worth our family,” Tina nods tiredly. She presses her nose up against his own and breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	28. Friends and the fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone is safe- except one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Sorry it's taken me so long. But I've finally finished my three weeks of placement. I still have exams, so things might not be so fast. But I'm not giving up! I'm going to finish this story, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much for Oceanicflights for betaing!

It’s been a month since the black night; which is what noblemen and peasants alike are calling Newt’s treacherous ride on the scaly back of Rodger. God knows how many men died that night. But it was enough to confirm that Grindelwald is officially on the losing side of history. Dead men cannot fight for their cause, and the ones that are alive are too terrified to try. Celebrations have erupted all over the highlands. And with the collapse of the line of soldiers keeping the food from crossing the border, it feels, to Tina at least, that the country has been feasting for thirty days straight. 

It’s certainly helped her gain her strength back in any case. Tina has slowly graduated to hard foods, and finally feels strong enough to sit out of bed for more than an hour. It feels illegal for them all to be this happy. Newt has shaved his beard, and there always seems to be a smile or a laugh on his face (except for when Tina took her first tentative steps to the chamber pot and back). Either Arthur or Merlin are always in their laps, and Tina’s life is full bouncing babies, and her husband’s arms around her. Theseus and Leta are also outrageously happy, especially as their new roles as Arthur and Merlin’s godparents. Their kids, Katherine and Isabella, have also successfully managed to cheer up Jacob’s children. It looked like an impossible feat at first, but once Teddy started smiling, soon all the blonde haired cherubs started doing so as well. The last being Albert as he taught Katherine some sword fighting moves to her intense delight.

The only person not enwrapped with joy is Jacob Kowalski. 

Tina looks over at her brother in law who is staring dully into the fireplace. She readjusts Arthur who she’s rocking in her arms, feeling her concern grow as a tear rolls down his pale cheek and loses itself in his untamed beard. Tina bites her bottom lip, curling her hand across Newt’s knee. He looks up from where he was tickling a smiling Merlin to meet her gaze. She flicks her head in Jacobs direction, and his green eyes soften sympathetically. Tina leans over, under the guise of kissing his cheek, to whisper decisively in his ear. 

“I should ask if we could do anything,” Newt nods his head at her words, and Tina smiles happy to have his support in this matter.   
.  
They’ve still not heard from Queenie. She must be still down in London. But trying to escape or by Grindelwald’s side? None of them have a chance of knowing. Tina knows it’s eating Jacob up inside. It should theoretically be doing the same to her, but her sisters last words won’t stop ringing in her ears. She can’t deny that a small childish part of her wants Queenie to reach out first. But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t support her husband. 

“Jacob?” Tina asks him quietly, and the muggle turns, though he doesn’t quite meet her gaze, “Do you mind if we have a talk?” Jacob shrugs, a slight bob of her shoulders. 

“If you wish,” He turns back to the fireplace, watching the flames dance blankly. Tina and Newt exchange worried looks. 

“Jacob,” Newt places Merlin on his knee, his little hand curling round his father’s large thumb, “we just wanted to know…”

“Tina?” Leta asks her from where she’s sat on the carpet, comfortably lying between Theseus’s knees, “We were just wondering if you’d heard from Credence yet?” The pair have finally made it out of their mourning colours; mourning for their deceased son. The light purple colour looks pretty on her and the blue good on him. Tina smiles, though she finds it comes slightly forcefully. 

“Yes, a couple of days ago,” She nods her affirmation, looking down fondly at where Arthur has snuck her mother’s necklace into his mouth, “He’s made it safe and sound to our home, and seems happy,” Tina’s smile turns into a wide beam at that. It’s wondrous to know that Credence is safe and sound again after so many years. Newt squeezes her thigh gently, and she knows he feels her joy.

Theseus stretches over with a slight grunt to snatch off his glass of port off his armchairs side table. Leta looks up at him, her cheek on his knee as he raises his glass round to them all. 

“To us then,” Theseus proclaims, raising the glass high, “We’re all safe- we’re all happy,” Leta lets out a short, joyful- hear, hear. Newt’s fingers stroke her leg, and she can feel that he’s content.   
Tina’s eyes flick toward Jacob. His hands are clenched round the arms of his chair, hard enough for the fabric to strain and snap. 

“What about Queenie?” The muggle asks through gritted teeth. He doesn’t look at anyone, but his chin is no longer faced towards the fire and instead his neck is as straight as an arrow. A solemn silence fills the air. Tina stares at her shoes. 

“What about her?” Theseus asks vaguely, and Tina winces. She can tell he’s trying his best to sound kind, but that doesn’t stop the confusion and dissent seeping into the wizards’ tone. 

She may not agree with what Queenie’s done, but she’s still her sister. And Tina can’t deny it doesn’t hurt that Theseus doesn’t consider her apart of their little family anymore, even though Queenie lived at Hogwarts longer than she has. 

Jacob stares at Theseus, disbelievingly, his hands clenched together. 

“She’s going to be all alone,” He rasps out, his voice scratching against his throat, “With that…monster,” Jacob shudders and a cold shiver trickles down Tina’s spine. Grindelwald. None of them have even seen the man. It shows how much death and destruction that Newt and his dragon caused, that people would feel brave enough to defy and desert him. 

“Who she chose to be with Jacob,” Newt informs him carefully, as though he were taming a wild beast. He’s not successful however, and Jacob’s face slowly grows red; the colour growing up from his neck, until he reaches boiling point. 

“That doesn’t matter!” Jacob explodes, his voice punching the air, “She picked him, she can just unpick him,” He looks around wildly, his face jerking bizarrely with the effort of trying to meet each of their eyes. His eyes bulge out of his skull as they all refuse to speak out. Someone coughs, and quickly tries to cover it. 

“She’s our family” Jacob screeches again into the uncomfortable silence. Tina finds she cannot look at him. She ignores the muggles eyes on her, and pretends to busy herself with Arthur’s blankets. But his gaze is penetrating and unshakable. 

“Tina?” Jacob asks her helplessly. Her head, unwillingly, slides up. The muggles feet are trembling erratically. He’s twisting his wedding ring around his finger. 

Tina remembers the day they got married, the day she watched over Queenie’s shoulder as she slid that golden circle around Jacob finger from her spot as maid of honour. They only had eyes for each other that day, but she remembers their exultant grins, and how tightly Queenie had embraced her. Tina remembers how they came back from Spain four months later, joint at the hip, her sisters stomach already blooming. She remembers carefully taking her nieces and nephew from Jacobs arms, as Queenie took a much needed nap after giving birth. And, if she goes as far back as she could possibly remember, Tina can clearly see her own Mama handing a baby Queenie for her to hold; her pink little face, her bright blue eyes staring curiously up at her as she was christened ‘big sister’ for the first time. 

For so long it was just them. Them against the world. Is she really going to leave her sister alone now that the world is against her? Tina clenches her teeth together. Of course not. She could never. Jacob’s right. Queenie is her family. And she’ll be damned if she’s going to leave any member of her family friendless and alone. She’s going to have to try. 

“I want to go,” Tina states truthfully. She can feel everyone in the room take an incredulous breath, except for Jacob who exhales elatedly. 

“Love, you can’t possibly be serious,” Newt asks her quietly. His sounds uncertain, as if he’s not sure if she’s being sincere or not. Tina raises her eyebrows at him. She’s never been more serious in her life. 

“She’s my sister,” Tina tells him, but loud enough so everyone in the room can hear, “I’ve known her since she was this sweetling’s size,” She smiles down at Arthur who has begun slumbering quietly. In a different world Queenie would’ve also held him after his birth. She could still have the chance to do so. 

“There must be something I can do to help her,” Tina states determinedly. Newt blinks vaguely. She’s still not too sure if he understands what she’s saying. Theseus scoffs loudly. 

“What, you think it would be a good idea to fly down to London to have a casual chat do you?” Theseus rolls his eyes, crudely sarcastic. Tina knows he would be swearing if there weren’t ladies present (and if he didn’t know Leta would slap him round the head for it). 

She also knows deep inside that she should be taking his comment as the insult that it is. But in some strange way, Tina knows it too be the best. After all Queenie might sail off to the continent to escape, by the time they get there by carriage or even horse they might be too late. Surely to fly, to get there in a day or even two, would secure her chances. 

“That actually might be the best…” Tina murmurs under her breath. A hot, sweaty hand cups her cheek, tugging it to one side. She looks up into frantic green eyes. 

“Tina,” Newt pleas desperately, his fingers trailing down her neck to embrace her softly, “you can’t,” 

“I agree,” Leta pipes up sharply, holding on to Theseus's leg as if for dear life, “It’s far too dangerous,” 

“Well what do you expect?” Tina stares round at them all for an alternate solution, “I can’t very well walk down there,” Newt’s fingers are limp where they caress her throat.

“Arthur and Merlin would get to ride a dragon,” Tina smiles down at their boys. Newt never gives up an opportunity to show them his creatures. They’ve practically lived in his case for the past month; Tina on a couch where she could nap if she got too tired, and the boys strapped to their father’s chest and back, depending on who was sleeping.   
Tina looks up hopefully. Newt sticks his jaw out firmly, and doesn’t budge. 

“Rodger could stretch his wings,” Tina wheedles, tugging on her husband’s lapel. Newt looks down at his lap, before looking up at her from beneath his ruddy eyelashes. 

“Believe it or not, that’s not what I’m focusing on in this scenario,” Newt mutters glumly. Tina’s hand falls flat and limp on his firm chest. 

“She’s a part of my family- our family,” Tina waves a hand over to Jacob who gives her a grateful nod, “She might not even know I’ve given birth, or even worse think I haven’t survived it,” She, at this time, chooses to ignore the fact that Queenie has not tried to contact her at all, even though her due date has come and passed.

‘But still,’ Tina argues with the rational side of herself zealously, ‘Our Mama died in childbirth, she must be at least a little fearful,’. Newt’s eyes are dull, the sad line of his mouth unfeeling. His hand falls from her neck to land with a thud in his lap. 

“She’s a bad witch love,” Newt tells her assertively, as if Tina had forgotten running crying into his arms after one of their encounters. He’s so distracted by glaring at her, that he doesn’t notice that Merlin is yawning, his eyes fluttering open. 

“But she could be a good one again,” Tina argues back, knowing that it has to be true. How could the little girl who used to hide in her skirts, not be possible of changing?

Newt swallows, his adams apple bobbing slowly down his throat. Then he turns determinedly, to stare in the opposite direction away from her. A distressed whine makes its way up Tina’s throat, and she only just manages to bat it down. This scene is too close to their first night as a married couple, where they offended each other so terribly. But now she is the only one on the offensive side. 

“I just want to talk to her,” Tina implores to the back of his head. Her husband doesn’t say anything. Merlin has begun to fuss, and she can tell he’ll need a feed soon, “Newt please,” Tina places a tentative hand on his back. He doesn’t shake her off. But he doesn’t turn around either.

“Fine,” Newt whispers under his breath. Tina didn't think she heard him correctly. Thankfully Jacob’s loud, grateful curse confirmed her suspicions. 

“Newton you can’t be serious,” Theseus exclaims, raising slightly from his seat. 

“God thank you, Tina,” Jacob has fallen from his chair and onto his knees. There’s tears on his cheeks, but he’s smiling deliriously. Tina barely has time to give him a quick nod. 

Newt has risen abruptly to his feet, bouncing a crying Merlin. She tries to catch his eye, but he purposefully ignores her. 

“Newt!” Theseus cries out, slapping his glass hard enough on the table to crack the glass, “You can’t possibly let her do this,” 

“I can’t stop her Theseus,” Newt shifts Merlin in his arm, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor, “She’s a human being, she can do what she wants,” He’s talking about her like she’s not even in the room. Tina clutches Arthur, their son, closer to her. She bites her lip; guilt and hurt burning equally up inside of her. 

“But you might die,” Leta yelps, her voice like a high pitched whistle. Her hand is a claw around her throat, and Tina knows when she lets go there will be small moon shaped circles embedded into her skin.

“I won’t die,” Tina tries her best to assure her sister, “Queenie won’t hurt me,” She does her best to smile, while inwardly grimacing. ‘At least I hope not,’

“Fine,” Newt says it again, and it’s like he’s just accidentally swallowed a piece of mould. He makes his way despondently to the door. His depression and Merlin’s sharp, breathy cries cut straight into Tina’s heart breaking it in two. Will he ever forgive her for this? 

“Newt,” Jacob pipes up worriedly. Newt waves one hand vaguely over his shoulder. It could’ve meant anything, from ‘it’s okay,’ to ‘bugger off,’. 

“Sweetheart,” Tina calls out helplessly. Newt turns around harshly, his knuckles white around the doorknob. There are tears brimming in his eyes. 

“If you must,” He shrugs, his face blank, his eyes steely, “You must,” Newt turns back to the door. His shoulders are shaking. 

“I’ll feed Merlin,” Newt somehow manages to say, “You should probably put Arthur to bed,” He slips out of the room, his coat sweeping out behind him.

The door shuts behind him with a short slam. Theseus is spluttering incredulously. Leta’s chin is sat dispirited on her knee. Her cheeks are red and it looks like she’s about to cry herself. Tina has no words. The air has left her lungs. But Jacob is right. They can’t leave Queenie alone. Especially when there is a chance, as slim as it seems, that she might be able to be saved. 

Jacob stands from his spot on the floor, and stumbles over to the now empty couch Tina’s sat on. Trembling arms wrap around her. She responds with a one armed embrace, Arthur still slumbering in the crook of her left arm. 

“Thank you Tina,” The muggle murmurs tightly in her ear. Much like her he’s too choked up to speak properly; although for a much different reason. 

“You’re welcome Jacob,” Tina hugs him back just as tight. She has a sickening feeling her husband won’t be greeting her in the same way when she finally gets the courage to return to their quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	29. A much needed talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Tina and Newt expose their fears and feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> The next chapter is up. Tina and Newt are going to talk about their feelings. Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Thank you so much to oceanicflights for betaing!!

The road to London is a long, unexciting and silent, at least for Tina and Newt. Both Merlin and Arthur seem to intensely enjoy the flight; their little happy noises are unmistakable. And when they weren’t happy, they were bawling, so that was fun for Tina’s sensitive, wind-blown ears.   
Even Rodger was making more noise than Mr. and Mrs. Scamander. The dragon is thriving on being able to stretch his wings again, and Newt had stopped him curtly many a time for trying to do a loop-a-loop. 

Tina tries her best not to mind. She knows her husband isn’t exactly happy with her at the moment. But she also knows she’s not letting her sister go without a fight; or at least a final conversation. Jacob’s letter, that he pressed intently into her hands, sits heavy in her pocket. But she can’t deny she can still feel Leta’s arms that squeezed around tight enough to crack her ribs. Tina knows her sister-in-law expects to never see her again. 

“I’m going to take us down soon,” Newt yells into the wind. 

“Okay,” Tina screams back. She had honestly expected to reach London tonight. ‘But I suppose we hadn’t talked about not stopping along the way,’ Tina thinks, clutching the boys closer to her chest. His ginger head nods once, and Tina’s stomach swoops as he takes them down and into the country side. 

“I just thought it would be nice to have a family camping night,” Newt slides nimbly off Rodger’s back. Tina smiles down at him encouragingly, wanting to keep a happy atmosphere between them. No matter how strained it might be. 

“That does sound nice,” Tina passes each boy down to their father carefully, “Doesn’t it sweetlings,” Newt’s arms are full, so Tina tumbles down to the ground unassisted. He’s beaming widely at Arthur and Merlin; the first smile she’s seen from him all day. She caresses the back of Merlin’s head, as Newt makes faces down at a red cheeked Arthur. For a moment it’s like it was two days ago, and everything is back to being perfect. Tina meets Newt’s eye tentatively. Newt’s smile droops, and he hides away in his fringe.

“I’ll set everything up,” He passes her Arthur and Merlin, carefully making sure not to brush against her, “You can look after the them,” Newt drops a kiss on each of his boys’ foreheads. His head stutters forward, as if going to plant one on hers as well, but thought better of it. Tina’s swallows her disappointment as best as she can, the sourness of it lingering in her mouth. Her skin tingles with the anticipation of his touch, even a she settles herself down on a spare long log near Rodger’s flank. 

\---------------------------------

The sun slowly lowers over the hilltops, casting a pink glow on their camp site. Tina looks out of the corner of her eye to where Newt’s building up the fire. ‘He’s sure kept himself busy for the last couple of hours’, Tina thinks knowingly, hefting up Merlin who’s currently feeding at her breast. Newt had sure gone all out to make sure they were going to be comfortable. The whole set up reminded Tina of their week long tramp to Hogwarts all those months ago. She watched her husband first set up a tarp. Then bring in cases full of their clothes and baby things, Arthur and Merlin’s cot, and even a bed for them to sleep on. Tina’s not sure if all the extra work was for their comfort, or because he wanted to use up as much time as possible so he didn’t have to talk to her.

She was right about last night. Newt barely spoke to her at all. They slept in the same bed, but he laid so close to the edge of the mattress that Tina was surprised he didn’t wake up on the floor the next morning. 

And this morning he was even more jilted. He stood silently by as Tina said her farewells to the rest of their family. She feels as though she’s standing on a boiling kettle that’s just waiting to go off.

Newt fiddles around for the hundredth time with the small fire he’s built. However he finally seems to find it satisfactory and flops down on the other end of her stump, wiping the sweat off his face with his sleeve. Tina places Merlin back on his blankets and picks up Arthur. Newt doesn't give her a second glance, even though her breast, for a moment, is fully exposed to the elements. 

“This is pretty looking country side,” Tina does her best at making vague conversation, thoroughly sick of this stupid silence between them, “What part of the country is this?” It’s a stupid question, but in some ways she’s interested. Tina spent more time on the continent than her home country. She can only vaguely remember the castle she used to live in, let alone any of the surrounding lands and landmarks. 

“Manchester,” The sound of the piece of wood falling on the fire, is louder than Newt’s voice. They fall into silence again. The only sounds are Merlin’s soft giggles from his blanket, and Arthur’s soft little suckles at her chest. Newt’s foot is bouncing up and down agitatedly. Tina can’t deny she feels like breaking herself. But one of them has to stay resilient. For the children at least. 

“Where did you get the tent?” Tina tries again, “It’s a pretty colour, isn’t it?” She asks Arthur in her mummy voice; even though her eldest sons eyes are firmly fixed on her breast, like a bird is with a worm. 

“Off one of the guardsman,” Newt answers absently, looking more interested in the wand he’s twirling around his fingertips. Tina presses her lips together, trying her best not to scream. 

What more is she supposed to do? She doesn’t want to apologise for doing this. At least not while he’s being so huffy about it. If only he would actually grow a pair, open his mouth and talk to her. Like she’s been trying to get him to do all bloody day. Tina swears under her breath. She feels Newt’s eyes on her and meets his gaze resolutely, all while lifting Arthur up to burp him. He immediately turns away, looking shamefaced. Tina can’t help herself rolling her eyes.  
‘Coward,’ She thinks bitterly. 

“Newt look- “Tina begins sharply. 

“I was going to feed the creatures,” Newt stands up quick enough that he stumbles, “Do you want to put the kids to bed?” He fiddles with placing his wand back in the little strap he sews into his pants. Tina’s back jolts arrow straight. 

“I can bring them down if you want?” She hates how much of a submissive change she’s taken in her tone. It’s like she’s going through every single persuasion technique she can think of, just to get Newt to talk to her again.

“No, no that’s alright,” Newt waves her suggestion away quickly, “You should stay out in the fresh air,” Tina stares up at him stupidly. As though she hadn’t been getting fresh air for the last few hours. Or the whole journey down here. Newt blushes, as if he’s read her mind. He storms away, towards the tent where he’s stored his case. 

“Don’t wait up for me,” Newt says over his shoulder. Tina watches with a heavy heart as he quickly ducks into the tent. The fabric fluttering forbearingly back together, is so much worse than any furious door slam. 

\-------------------------

Tina tucks in her blanket she made around her sons. They immediately snuggle up together. Both of their hair has grown out little more, and Arthur’s little fingers stroke the dark tuffs of Merlin’s hair as they both get comfortable. Merlin’s hands are currently empty, but she knows that sometime in the night his thumb is going to make its way up to his mouth. Tina can’t help but beam as she rocks them back and forth. Their cot is sat on two curved pieces of wood. They’ve found that the longer they’re rocked; the more time they have to sleep at night. So that’s what’s Tina’s been doing, while waiting for Newt to reappear; trying desperately to ignore the elephant in the room. Or should she say, the elephant between them. The sound of creaking hinges causes Tina to jump. She turns to find her husbands flushed face poking out the top of his case. 

“You’re still up?” Newt asks. His eyebrows are raised in surprise, but his tone feigns disinterest. 

“Yes,” Tina shrugs blankly. 

“Right,” Newt says awkwardly, before clambering out of his case. He bobbles on the tips of his toes for a moment, staring down at her. Tina wipes her suddenly sweaty palms on her cherry red slacks. The tips of Newt’s ears are red. 

“Well, I’m going to bed,” He clears his throat. Tina lets out a disappointed breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

Newt flops down on his side of the mattress. He takes off his boots, sliding his laces through the aglets with a sharp whip like sound. Tina watches as he throws them onto the dewy grass, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. 

“Newt,” Tina tries, twisting her fingers together anxiously. He dips his toes under the bedsheets, before flinging them roughly over his shoulder. She watches as Newt scrapes his wand up, and points it at the ball of light that’s wobbling near the top of the ceiling. 

“Do you mind if I turn the lights out?” Newt says, forcefully jovial. He doesn’t wait for an answer and the tent falls into darkness.

Tina slides her sweaty hands on her pants, taking a deep breath. Then she conquers a couple of incredibly squishy blankets, arranging them down next to her son’s cot in a bed like manner. Tina awkwardly makes her way from her knees to a sleeping position. It’s comfortable enough. They say it’s good for your back. She is just about finished pumping the coverlets up to form a feasible pillow when the lights flicker back on again. 

“What are you doing?” Newt asks her, sounding bewildered. Tina squints up at him from the ground. 

“Sleeping?” She explains dimly.

“On the ground?” Newt questions her, sounding put out. Tina huffs pensively, burying her head into her blankets. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to sleep with you,” She mumbles into the fabric. There’s a silence. Then Tina lets out a small shriek, as a swooping sensation flies into the depths of her stomach. She looks down, to find the grassy floor at least a metre below them. Newt levitates her neatly onto their bed. Tina gazes keenly in Newt’s direction, but he’s busily placing his wand neatly beside the mattress again. 

“There we go,” He smiles thinly in her direction, leaning over to peck her lightly on the forehead, “Night love,” Newt curls up on his side again. Tina gazes up at the red tarp ceiling. His lips burn on her skin. It’s the first time he’s kissed her when she thinks he doesn’t mean it.

“Newt, please, talk to me. I don’t want to do this anymore, pretending that we’re okay,”

“We are okay,” Newt says elusively, though there’s an unfathomable tenseness to his voice, “You just almost died in child birth, and now you’re off to kill yourself again,” Tina bites into her lip so fiercely, she draws blood. Pressing a thumb to her stinging lip, she turns to face Newt angrily. 

“Newt,” Tina spits harshly, tears brimming in her eyes. 

“And I said I’m fine with it,” Newt bites back, sounding every emotion under the sun, except fine, “So we’re okay, okay?” He speaks to the fabric wall in front of him. 

He sounds jilted, held back. Newt is almost back to his awkward self; the one Tina hasn’t seen in a whole year. She feels like she did on that day so long ago, watching him on his stead as they trotted through the Scottish high-lands. Wondering what was going on inside his head. Who he was, if he trusted her, what was this secret he was holding in. 

Tina had thought they had managed to break through their walls. To become a happy married couple. Who had found love in each other, despite the original circumstances that brought them together. Perhaps she was wrong. 

“You’re not being fair,” Tina turns her own head away, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘This is why I wanted to sleep apart,’ She thinks forcefully. There’s a silence. Then the sound of a mattress squeaking. 

“No, no, no,” Newt hisses at her like an angry goose. She flips around to find him glaring at her, his beautiful eyes narrowed into two furious slits, “This isn’t fair to me, Tina,” Newt points his thumb into his chest assertively. There’s red marks around the tips of his fingers, where he must have been biting at them. He only does that when he’s incredibly, debilitated anxious, and Tina boils on the inside. 

“Then talk to me,” A subdued scream rips out from her throat. It would’ve been a real scream if it hadn’t been for Arthur and Merlin slumbering in the same room. 

Newt’s mouth is a thin, stubborn line. He doesn’t make a sound. Tina’s bottom lip wobbles perilously. How can this man love her? He doesn’t even want to talk to her. She lets her head fall defeated onto the blankets, scrunching up her face with grief. Tina has never felt more alone with Newt in her life. 

“Damn you,” She whispers wetly into the cotton. 

There’s nothing else left for Tina to do but cry. And she does, bitterly. Her tears are cold, and they bite at her cheeks. There’s vague, little choking sounds barking from her chest, and she’s shuddering helplessly. Tina’s sobbing as if she’s crying alone, and she can’t bring herself to care. Snot flows freely through her nose, and she weakly raises a hand up to wipe her soggy skin. Before Tina can manage to do so however, a trembling hand wraps itself round her wrist. She blinks up at Newt who also has a barrel roll of tears streaming down his face. His thumb begins to gently, if tentatively, stroke the inner most skin of her wrist. ‘He’s comforting me,’ Tina realises with a hiccup. 

“I thought I was going to break without you,” Newt’s grip around her is fragile and his touch clammy, “I couldn’t leave our room, all my conversations to the boys were about how amazing our life was going to be after you woke up,” 

“I didn’t eat, I barely slept,” Newt wrings his free hand, “Tina if you had died…I don’t know what I would’ve done,” 

“And then I killed all those people, just to save your life,” Newt’s begun to tremble. Tina can feel his hand shaking her own, all the way up to her elbow, “And you woke up, and I was so happy,” He looks down. Tina’s blood turns to stone. She’s never seen Newt look so hateful before.

“It was like…in a twisted way, it was worth it,” His gaze is icy, and Tina can tell it’s directed all at himself. 

“But if Grindelwald takes you,” His voice cracks then, and Tina melts into a depressed puddle, “Then I’ll be nothing but a broken murderer,” Newt sniffs pathetically. He lets her go swiftly, as if she was burning him. ‘Or,’ Tina realises… ‘As though he is not worthy of touching her,’ She just as hastily cups his cheeks, wiping her thumbs underneath his damp eyes. 

“Newt that is not true,” Tina utters forcefully. 

“How do you know that?” Newt asks, begging her for the answer. Tina smiles incredulously at his folly. 

“This is why I love you,” She brings their foreheads together, “Because you don’t seem to know it, but you’re the best man, the best person I’ve ever known,” Tina rubs her lips against the corner of his mouth. Newt’s fingers stroke her ribs, as if he were playing the lute and a fresh wave of tears run down his cheeks. 

“No,” Newt shakes his head, his lips pressed together in diffidence. 

“You are kind, caring, compassionate,” Tina proclaims breathless in her honesty, “And you’re strong Newt,”

“I don’t think so,” Newt chuckles sullenly, his eyes down cast. 

“I think so,” Tina lovingly brushes his fringe out of her way, so she can stare at him properly, “You never gave up, you stayed by our boys’ sides when they needed us,” She looks over at where their little ones are sleeping. Arthur has his little fingers wrapped around his brother’s blankets. Merlin’s thumb is in his mouth. Tina loves them so much it hurts. But she’s only had a chance to love them for a month and a day. Newt had gotten to love them a week longer, and she can’t deny that hasn’t been eating away at her. It wasn’t long, but it might have been forever. 

“I didn’t,” Tina whispers distastefully, “If I died…I would’ve left them all alone, I would’ve abandoned them, my little boys,” 

“And I would’ve abandoned you,” Tina’s hands begin to tremble. She would’ve left him; she would’ve broke him. It would’ve have been all her fault. Tina begins to cry earnestly again, and Newt cradles her to his chest. Wet, salty lips press to her hairline. 

“Then why are you doing this?” Newt sobs brokenly, “Why are you taking the chance to abandon us again?” 

“Because…then I’d be abandoning my sister,” Tina says in a small voice, “My little girl, my little sister.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. She feels like a wrung out towel; all her strength and composure is lying in a puddle on the floor. 

“Oh Tina,” Newt’s face crumbles, and Tina sighs in relief at the brush of sympathy that’s finally fell over his features. 

“I’m sorry,” She mumbles pitifully. 

“No…I do understand,” Newt exhales heavily, “I wish I didn’t, but I do,” Tina wiggles backwards, gripping her husband resolutely by the shoulders. 

“I promise not to die,” She announces firmly. Her fingers must be pinching his shoulders, but Tina doesn’t think that’s what’s caused Newt to clench up. 

“Tina,” Newt’s eyes are fixed shut, as if in intense pain, “Don’t, please,” 

“What more can I do than promise you not to die?” Tina cups his face with both hands, staring deep into his eyes. Newt audibly swallows, and one of his hands weakly comes up to grasp her wrist.

“Tina…I understand you have to do this,” There are tears in Newt’s voice, “But also understand that I really, really don’t want you too,” 

Tina blinks roughly, her guilt swelling up with her own tears. What on earth can she say to that? But she can see a baby Queenie sitting in her lap, just as well as she can see Arthur and Merlin. If any of her sons turned to Grindelwald’s side Tina knows in her soul she’d be doing the exactly the same thing; and furthermore she knows in that scenario Newt would be right beside her. But it’s not one of their sons, it’s Tina’s sister. 

Two tears drop from Newt’s cheeks and land with two soft plinks on their soaked mattress. 

“Newt,” Tina utters, her voice cracking with misery, “I love you,” A slight smile finally twists its way onto his face. 

“Oh Tina,” Newt touches the back of his fingers to her cheek. She can see the tenderness in his gaze again, and smiles toothily, “I love you too,” A giant weight gets lifted off her chest. Newt loves her. They kiss, once, softly, 

“Is there anything I can do?” Tina blinks up at him, wincing in a hopeful manner. Newt looks down, his chin pressed against his chest. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. Tina leans in, pressing a warm kiss to the middle of his chest. His arms come up to smother her and she grows warm from the end of her toes to the tip of her nose. 

“Snuggles,” Newt mumbles, burying his face into the crook of her neck. 

“That is a good idea,” Tina sighs, smiling into his flannel shirt. Her own arms wrap around his waist.

They lay like that for a long time, getting uncomfortably warm in each other’s presence. They usually break apart at this moment. When there’s a thin sheen of sweat on each other’s limbs. Although cuddling is romantic, it’s not particularly the best for sleeping. Tina beings to release her tight hold, her limps breaking off him with an audible pop. Newt however, refuses to let her go. His fingers hang on, as if by a magic spell, and she lets herself be pulled back into his embrace. 

“What?” Tina mumbles quietly. She knows he can’t even nap without turning his pillow over to the cold side. Newt doesn’t reply. He leans in close to her face, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. Tina lets her eyes flutter shut, and Newt’s lips slide over her own. 

It’s innocent enough at first, and she lets herself drift away in his gentle embrace. Tina doesn’t really question it when Newt deepens the kiss, and replies likewise. But her expectations are rattled when she feels his insistent erection against her thigh. Tina breaks their kiss to gasp. Newt stare is lustful, his eyes hooded. He takes deep, greedy breaths as he manoeuvres himself on top of her. Tina finds herself caught between his forearms, and her own breathing begins to stutter at the wanting glint in his eye. Newt looms above her, close but just out of reach. Tina finds herself mindlessly hefting herself up to catch his lips. Newt hums satisfyingly, before presses her firmly into the mattress, and beginning to press open mouthed kisses to the line of her jaw. 

“I crave you,” Newt grumbles in Tina’s ear, which momentarily cuts off her oxygen supply. 

“Newt,” Tina bites down on her bottom lip, his deep proclamation ringing in her ears making her dizzy. 

“I love you,” Newt utters adoringly, as he kisses his way down her throat, “I love you,” His fingers trace over her form with a scientific necessity. Tina finds her back arching, as he maps her with his hands and tongue. But she can’t help but knowing, with a heavy heart, what he’s doing. 

‘This isn’t goodbye,’ Is what Tina desperately wants to say. But it would ruin the moment. And in any case it’s been so long since they have touched like this. Delicately. Almost unfamiliarly. Like it is their first time again. 

“I love you too,” Is what Tina whispers instead. Newt flashes her a wobbly smile, before kissing her deeply. She feels his fingers fumbling at the buttons of her slacks, and threads her fingers through his hair; letting herself be loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	30. A goodbye to an old friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Tina confronts Queenie for the final time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I'm back! This chapter is full of drama, sadness and blood...I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> Trigger warning; this chapter includes character death
> 
> Big thanks to oceanicflight for beta-ing!

London is too large and too dirty. Tina has thrown a disillusion charm over them all, and it seems to be doing the trick as Rodger swoops over the thatched roofs. She can’t help but notice as she peers over the dragon’s giant green flank the various smashed shop windows, and how men crowd the street; not a woman or child in sight. Some of the buildings are even on fire, and frail lines of smoke filter up to the sky above causing Merlin to cough. But St. Paul’s Cathedral still stands, and that is their destination. The current hiding place of the Ministry of Magic. 

It’s late afternoon. Newt waited till the last possible moment to pack up. Tina knew why he did it, but god was it worse to drag the day out like that. She watches the tension in his back as he makes Rodger dive into the church yard. Tina longs to ease him, as she did last night. As she did again this morning. But it isn’t the time, or the place. 

The setting sun burns the back of her neck, as once again she passes Arthur and Merlin down to him. Newt takes them carefully, his eyes jumping between her, Rodger and St Pauls. The building is completely silent. Tina knows it’s supposed to be bustling with action; the ministry for all of England’s witches and wizards always is. Instead there’s an eerie quiet that she can’t quite shake. The uneasiness of it all burrows into her, like a flea on a dog. Could it be that Queenie and her master have already left? Or is she about to walk into a trap? 

“I wish you’d let me come,” Newt says through gritted teeth, staring anxiously up at the grandiose establishment. He’s bouncing erratically up and down on the balls of his feet. Merlin gratefully has fallen asleep and is slumbering on his back. Arthur however doesn’t like the spasmodic movement and begins to cry. Both of his parents slush him hastily. 

“We’re not leaving the children alone,” Tina hisses quickly, and Newt nods forlornly. He agrees with her, but he doesn’t like it. Not that she particularly likes it either, but Tina’s peace of mind that comes from knowing at least her children and husband will be safe if it all goes up in smoke. She forces herself to take a gulp of stabilising air and presses a kiss to each of her boy’s heads. 

“Ten minutes,” Tina cups Newt’s cheek. It’s uncomfortably warm under her palm. 

“Five,” He retorts quickly. Tina grimaces, and refuses to be swayed. 

“Ten,” She replies carefully, and Newt frowns, his sorrow deepening, “But I promise, that will be all,” Tina presses him amiably. It doesn’t seem to help. Even his freckles are pale. 

“Tina,” Newt rolls his eyes, irately. 

“She might not even be there,” Tina looks towards the dark double doors. She can’t deny that thought is depressing. All these dramatics for a walk through an empty chapel. 

“She will be,” Newt replies darkly. The doors are covered in carvings in various snarling creatures. That would usually be enough to get her beast love husband to smile madly. But there’s something ominous about it. Something sinister. The church doors, no matter how holy they might be, have the appearance of being doors that are going straight to hell. Tina schools her facial expression. She refuses to be scared. Being scared is the first step to being killed. 

“Your necklace has pieces of Arthur and Merlin’s hair in it,” Newt’s voice with breathy and unmeasured. He points in a supposed casual manner to her chest with trembling fingers, “I put them in for my flight…they kept me safe,” Tina presses her hand over heart, where a bump protrudes slightly out from her linen shirt. Will her children’s hair really protect her from Grindelwald’s curses? Queenies? 

“I’m sure they’ll keep you safe too,” He sounds like he’s convincing myself. 

Tina smiles encouragingly. Newt looks terrified. His hair is practically standing on end. He looks so different from the day they first met. His hair is longer, his stubble shorter. There’s a passionate love in his eyes, but new lines of stress on his forehead. ‘But he’s still just as handsome,’ Tina smiles to herself, before drinking him in. Drinking them all in. 

“I love you,” Tina leans in to press a kiss on his cheek, “And I love you, and you,” She nods her head with a tiny smile to both Arthur and Merlin. Then she drops her hand from Newt’s face. He almost immediately grabs it back again. 

“I love you too,” Newt whispers brokenly. Tina’s knuckles turn white, as Newt holds onto her so tight she’s almost afraid he’s broke her fingers. 

Tina leans in for a final kiss. Newt’s lips are hard and chapped, but she kisses them sweetly anyway. Newt doesn’t seem to want to break away. Eventually Tina’s forced to place her hand firmly on his chest. He breaks away, his chin wobbling perilously. 

"Be safe," Newt murmurs his farewell wetly. 

“I will,” Tina assures him firmly. Perhaps if she says it decisively enough, she’ll believe it herself.   
\-----------------------------------------------------------

The ceiling is as high as any cathedrals. It reaches towards the sky and twinkles with tiny pieces of multi-coloured glass. The sunset projects into the shards, bathing the building in a soft red glow. Tina walks slowly into the court room, twirling her necklace, and therefore Arthur and Merlin’s locks, between her fingertips. She can feel Newt’s love on her chest and in her heart. She wipes the sweat on her palms across her pants, before reaching for her wand. Tina refuses to die here. 

But she’s not going to leave without seeing her sister either.

“Queenie?” Tina shouts, and her voice echoes across the cavern, pinging loudly against the glass. Tina winces but keeps her head high. 

No one appears. But the air trembles, and Tina knows someone is listening. 

“Queenie, please come out,” Tina begs plaintively, “I miss you. Jacob misses you, your kids…I just want to talk,” Her voice shakes around the empty room again. And she waits, and waits- the precious seconds of her promise ticking past. 

“Then why is your wand out Lady Scamander?” A voice booms out grandiosely. Tina’s heart thuds in her chest as two figures step out from the shadows.

Queenie stands, head bowed. She’s thinner than when she last saw her, her skin hanging off her skeleton. Her hair is limp; her face is gaunt. Queenie’s dressed head to toe in black velvet, and the she’s still wearing the necklace Tina saw her in last. A long black chain tight around her neck, with a long dangerous knife hanging off the end of it bouncing near her waist.

Her sister isn’t who causes Tina’s airway to close off though. It’s the same the man standing next to her. 

“Welcome Tina,” Grindelwald opens his arms in a fatherly manner, “I’ve been waiting for you,” His snow white hair stands out starkly against the black velvet of his jacket. His posture is all that of a gentleman, but Tina can see from her distance the dangerous glint in his eye. A year and a half ago she would’ve sprinted up to them, swept Queenie out of the way, and duelled the man to the death. But a year and six months have past, and her husband, her two children and their dragon stand outside waiting for her to return. 

Queenie gasps, and blinks rapidly, as if to prevent tears from falling from her eyes. Or it might have been because of a piece of dust. 

“Oh Teenie,” Her sister shudders, her body folding in on herself,” They’re so beautiful,” 

“Who?” Grindelwald asks conversationally, “Oh, it must be your darling children,” Tina’s jaw clicks, but she determinedly keeps her facial features the same. The last thing she’s going to is give them away. ‘You can do anything to me,’ Tina projects silently towards where Grindelwald stands, smiling smarmily above her, ‘But if you touch my children, you’re the one who’s going to be tortured.’

“I’m not here to talk about them,” Tina says briskly, holding her wand up resolutely, “I’m here for my sister,” 

“Your sister,” Grindelwald sing songs, “How touching,” He caresses Queenie’s upper arm in a familiar manner. Too familiar. Queenie doesn’t even flinch. Tina stares desperately into her baby blue eyes, trying to find something. Anything to suggest his touch abhorred her, even excited her. Something that showed her cards. But there’s nothing. Queenie’s stare is like a zombie, her gaze dead and dull. 

Grindelwald takes a few steps backwards, chuckling to himself. His presence is palpable. It beats loudly in her ears, louder than her heartbeat. It’s enough to make a person go insane. Tina wonders vaguely what he does to torture the people he really doesn’t like. 

“I have a note from Jacob,” Tina focuses her gaze on her sister. Though she doesn’t move her wand from where it points between them. It might seem like she has a death wish, but she’s not crazy enough to approach them unprotected. She pulls the hefty pieces of paper out of her pocket. Tina’s pretty sure every child has written a note to her. They’ve been tied together clumsily by some gaudy pink ribbon. Queenie’s favourite colour. Her sister’s eyes dart towards it, dark with want. 

“So?” Queenie asks briskly. But there’s a hint of alarm in her voice. Tina thinks she catches a slight shake of her head, but it might have been a trick of the fading light. The elder sister nibbles solicitously on the bottom of her lip. Grindelwald has lit a pipe and is puffing out circles of greyish smoke nonchalantly. Tina can see how the ash burns red hot in the bottom of the chamber. She can’t tell if it’s dying out or beginning to burn brighter. 

“I’ll just leave it here,” Tina puts one foot delicately on the charming marble staircase, “If you ever wish to read it,” She throws, more than places the bundle of letters on the top of the case. There’s only four slight steps, and they land with a faint thud at Queenie’s feet. Her sisters chin touches her chest as she stairs down at it; her fingertips stutter perilously towards the letters. Tina somehow instinctively knows that she’s going to pick it up. But neither when her nor Grindelwald are looking. 

‘Well,’ Tina thinks, taking a deep shuddering breath, ‘She should probably read it as soon as possible,’ She stumbles backwards, flying rapidly down the stairs and a few paces back down the pews. Queenie is well and fine and she’s going to read her family's letter. But Tina’s stayed far too long in that Grindlewald's presence; her own family is far too close for her comfort.

Tina’s fine with her sister reading her mind, she’ll see what Tina wants her to see. But she has a sneaking suspicion Grindelwald can read her mind too, and she wants to get out of here as soon as possible. Not taking her eyes away from the pair, Tina takes another measured step backwards. 

“Come on Tina dear,” Grindelwald smiles, a flinty edge to it. Tina just manages not to let her shoulders bounce in a flighty half jump, “You can’t leave now,” He blows a measured smoke circle in her direction. My either extreme skill or magic it pops on her face, leaving her in a cloud of bitter dust. Tina refuses to cough, even though it itches her nostrils. 

“You come, you leave,” The wizard waves nonchalantly towards her, then towards the door Newt and her children are currently waiting outside of, “It’s hardly been five minutes,” Grindelwald raises two greying eyebrows impregnably. Tina’s heart pounds, her pulse jumping out of her arteries. Does he know? Five minutes. It could just be coincidence. Or could it be that he already knows that half of her and Newt’s agreed time is already halfway through. 

“I also wanted to say…” Tina forces her voice not to tremble. She thinks she just about manages it. Her nails dig tight enough in her skin to draw blood. Queenie’s turning her knife between her slim fingers. Tina stares at the movements, entranced by the fluidity. She was always a good shot, even if she hated it.   
Queenie was the one who bought Tina those knifes for her twenty-first birthday. 

“I love you,” Tina shrugs smiling faintly up at Queenie, “You’re my sister, and no matter who you are, or what you’ve done…” Her sisters mouth has fallen open. Tina can see the lines of her perfect white teeth. A thin line of blood drips from her left fingertip, where she must have cut herself. 

“I will always love you,” Tina presses her honestly, even managing to smile at little bit wider, “And you’ll always have a place in our home, if you ever feel like coming back to your family again,” Queenie’s bottom lip trembles. Her mouth moves, but Tina’s never been a good lip reader at the best of times. She’s not going to betray her sister in front of Grindelwald himself by cocking her head in confusion. Instead Tina just nods softy to herself, as deferentially as possible. Her knife bounces silently against Queenie’s waistband where it fell through her fingers.

“That’s the jist of it really,” Tina fiddles awkwardly with the wand between her own fingertips, “So I’ll just be off,” She says in an assertive voice. Then she looks firmly between the witch and wizard before her, before taking another leisurely step backwards. A loud crude tut breaks through Tina’s exit. 

“Off where?” Grindelwald asks conversationally, waving his pipe around as he talks, “You have piqued my interest here Mrs. Scamander, how did you make it here in the first place to our humble halls?” Small pieces of ash tumble to the ground to stain the white marble below him. 

Tina halts in her tracks. She stares up at the pedestal on which the pair of them stand. Tina doesn’t even think during the birth of her children she had this much fear in her heart. Grindelwald’s eyebrows are raised in challenge. Tina presses her lips together and leaves them there, as if glued together. The dark wizard chuckles, as if she’s disappointed him in some manner. 

“No?” Grindelwald asks Tina vaguely, “What a shame,” He taps his pipe against his leg, before slithering up against her sister.

“How about you Queenie?” He twirls one of her golden curls around one of his powerful fingers. Tina, horrified, watches as her sisters face turns vacant, and she’s powerless as invisible fingers reach into her mind. 

“Dragon,” Queenie answers robotically, her eye line slipping towards the door. The icy bath of betrayal washes over Tina, and she shivers. ‘How could you?’ She projects angrily in Queenie’s direction. A tear tumbles down her sisters thin cheek. 

“Ahh Dragon,” Grindelwald sits back on his heels happily. He wipes the tear of Queenie’s faces with a firm press of his thumb. Tina seethes; she can see the red mark from her place metres away. 

“I didn’t think it was easy to fly one of those beasts,” The dark wizard turns his dangerous gaze once again to Tina’s trembling form. 

“It’s not,” Tina finds herself replying stonily. 

“You must have had help then,” Grindelwald surmises smugly, announcing this knowledge loudly, as if he had the audience of an entire amphitheatre, “Did your darling husband manage to teach you?” Tina has a horrid suspicion that this is a rhetorical question. 

“No,” Queenie shakes her head unhelpfully. 

Tina can’t help the way her eyes flick nervously towards the door. ‘Please let Newt not be stupid enough to lean against the door,’ She prays fervently. She didn’t even think of it, but it would be all so easy for the dark wizard to send a deadly curse down the middle of the aisle causing the front of the building to collapse into rubble. Queenie’s eyes are wide and round where they also glance up the pews. 

Grindelwald, however, is clearly delighted. 

“So he’s here too?” He asks, his grin as large as a saber-tooth tiger, “Isn’t that lovely, we should ask him to come in,” Grindelwald slicks back his hair with the side of one hand, before taking a step down the stairs. 

“NO,” Tina shouts, brash enough to cause pieces’ glass to tremble on the ceiling. 

“That was said very impassioned,” Grindelwald raises a charmed eyebrow, “Wasn’t it darling,” He turns back to Queenie, flashing her a saucy wink. Queenie’s gaze is pointed to the floor. Tina tries her best not to be sick, breathing tight in her nose and out her mouth. 

“It’s almost as if Tina doesn’t want us to meet the man who single handed brought down our campaign,” Grindelwald states, raising his eyebrows in cruel jest. Tina sets out her chin keeping silent. She won’t dignify that with a response. 

“Fancy that,” Queenie whispers somewhat sarcastically. Immediately she’s confronted by both Tina and Grindelwald, who shoot her a terrible glare, and she once again is subdued into silence.

“Could it be you also have someone else out there you don’t want us to meet?” Grindelwald continues his speech, as if Queenie’s comment was no more than a cockroach under his heel, “Some little friends perhaps,”

Any rash reply Tina had planned, turns to ashes in her mouth. He knows. He has to know. Grindelwald wouldn’t be laughing at her right now if he’d meant back up, or any of Newt’s creatures. Tina’s hand wraps around her necklace, where her son’s hair sits safety inside. Arthur and Merlin. Her sweet boys. No. NO. Tina’s body is drenched in a cold sweat. Anything, anything but that. 

“I would warn you that we have a dragon outside,” Tina tries a play at a card she doesn’t know she has, “A dragon that happened to destroy your entire army,” She knows Newt wouldn’t be happy at all about killing more people; he made that entirely clear last night. Tina doesn’t like it much either, knowing both her and Queenie would most likely be in the crossfire. 

But Tina would rather die, rather Newt be mad at her forever, than see him and their children captured by the evillest wizard in the world. Anything would be worth it, to ensure Arthur and Merlin’s safety. 

“And I would warn you not to do anything rash,” Grindelwald has finally dropped his ‘nice guy’ act. His voice drips with a menace, and his eyes flash fiercely, “We’ve still got some loyalists you see, some that wouldn’t hesitate to cut you down even if it meant blowing us up with you,” 

Tina bounces on her toes, her mind racing despairingly. ‘What on earth can I do if what he’s saying is true?’ Her mind screams, her pulse pumping loudly behind her eyeballs. ‘It’s either they kill my family or they kill my family!’

Tina feels rather as though she’s stuck between two walls; one covered in lethal spikes, the other covered in a burning flame. Every second brings the two perils closer and closer around her and her family. She truly can’t see a way out. Unless…Queenie’s eyes are still trailed on the floor. She doesn't look happy. But she is also still standing by her master loyally. 

“I don’t know what you expected in coming here Mrs. Scamander,” Grindelwald muses, tapping his pipe against his leg, in a firm repetitive beat, “That in our defeated state we would have no choice but to listen amiably to whatever you came to stay,” He looks at Queenie, touching her cheek daintily with the back of his hand. Her sister visibly recoils this time, and he grasps her chin firmly forcing him to look at her. Tina takes a stumbling step forward, stupidly thinking that something she could do would help. Instead it just causes Grindelwald to wind his arm tightly around Queenie’s waist; physically tying her to him. 

“Or that your mere presence would be enough to lead my darling Queenie back into your arms again,” Grindelwald presses his fingers so tight into Queenie’s waist that she lets out a high-pitched yelp.

‘You okay?’ Tina quickly projects anxiously to her sister’s mind. Queenie’s head bobs, and angry tears fall down Tina’s cheeks. ‘You’re not though,’ She fights back, and Queenie shuts her eyes tight, as if trying to shut her out.

“But I assure you Tina,” Grindelwald promises her, so sickly sweet that a stranger would’ve thought he was about to offer her candy, “You may have won the war, but we have no interest in backing down,” 

“People may be hiding, abashed, now,” He turns his head upward towards the ceiling, “But it won’t be long until our little friends see the light again,” The sunset that streams through the glass bathes Grindelwald’s silver hair in a reddish glow. His entire head looks like it’s been bathed in blood. 

“Along with some new members we’ll manage to coax aboard,” Grindelwald presses his pipe into his pocket, “By force if necessary,” He pulls out two items that cause Tina to let out a whimper. A dark, knotted wand and a shining knife. She has no doubt he knows how to use both.

If Grindelwald was a normal evil wizard Tina would know he’d take her first. Cut her up nice and good to show a horrified Newt. But Grindelwald is not a normal evil wizard; he’s the evillest. She can see him picking their children to torture first without a second thought, while Tina and Newt were useless to do anything but scream. 

“For instance, I’m sure the Scamander’s will be more interested in joining my cause if I have their children on board,” Grindelwald points his wand towards the church’s closed door with a steady hand. Queenie’s clutches her chest, her chain tight around her fingers. Tina thinks she hears the sharp sound of mental snapping, “So, shall I add two more members to my plight?” 

Tina’s clammy fingers clench round her wand, ready for a fight. She’ll die, but at least she’ll give Newt the time he needs to escape. Arthur and Merlin, her beloved children. Newt, her love. They’ll be safe. Tina sighs, ready to meet death with her head held high. ‘And what is my life really?’ Tina chuckles wretchedly, ‘Compared to them?’ 

“No, no you won’t,” It’s Queenie’s voice that echoes off the windowpanes. Tina’s wand falls limp in her sweaty hand as her sister turns sharply before thrusting forward towards her master, something gripped tight in her fist. 

Tina stretches her neck, attempting to see. But Queenie’s body completely blocks her view from seeing anything. Her sister lets out a sharp cry, and Grindelwald himself lets out a guttural scream. For the first time in her life, in the face of danger, Tina cannot seem to get her feet to move. They are stuck on the floor, either by a spell or some type of dark magic.

But the next thing she knows is that she’s watching Grindelwald, the leader of the greater good, fall back with a gargantuan crack, a dagger poking out of his chest. A thin line of blood runs from the wizards mouth and paints a delicate mural on the pale skin of his neck. 

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina stutters, her hand up against her throat, the cold metal of their mother’s necklace digging into her skin. She can’t believe what her eyes just processed. Did her baby sister just murder the most dangerous man on earth?

Queenie stumbles backwards, her feet tripping over each other, her heels bending on the immovable marble. At the sight of her baby sister about to tumble down the stairs, Tina’s feet are finally roused into action. She vaults up the steps to catch her just before she falls, but her still weak limbs mean that they both go crashing to the ground. Something hard elbows her in the stomach. It’s far too thin to be Queenie’s elbow. 

Her knife sticks out of Grindelwald’s chest. 

But his knife sticks out of Queenie. 

Her sister’s fingers graze over the onyx handle dazedly, as if she doesn’t really believe it’s poking through her rib-cage. Then she grasps it firmly, tugging the offending weapon out of her, and chucking it on the floor with a weak clutter. Blood bubbles out of her chest, soaking the fabric until it’s drenched with thick red liquid. Tina immediately jumps to press the heel of her palm down hard on the open wound, but it does no use. She can see the colour drain from her sisters face, a feeble trail of red sputum running down her chin. There’s only one thing that happens when someone loses with much blood. Tina’s world spins, and she shuts her eyes against the nausea that threatens to overcome her. No. No. She refuses to believe that this is happening. 

“You’re okay,” Queenie’s hand is slick with blood, but Tina holds it tight, “You’re fine, you’re going to be fine,” She wipes the sweat from her forehead with shaky fingers.

“I know I am,” Queenie brushes her weakly away, “you’re with me,” Her sister smiles up at her lovingly, her blue eyes sparkling. Tina shakes her head pathetically, tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Queenie,” Tina’s voice breaks. She struggles to control herself, taking deep struggling breaths, “Don’t die,” Her sister’s normally sweet pink cheeks are as dull as chalk. Her chest rises as falls erratically against the black velvet of her dress. 

“My Teenie,” Queenie smiles, or at least her lips vaguely lift up, “Always wanting to control me,” Tina doesn’t know whether to laugh or to seethe. A strange croak falls out of her mouth. 

“Don’t, please,” She finally manages to say, “Not now,” Queenie winces; though in shame or pain Tina cannot tell. 

“Tell Jacob, the kids, that I love them,” Her sister asks her firmly, struggling to get the words out, “That I’m sorry,” Queenie squeezes her eyes shut. But then she falls limp in Tina’s arms as if all the gumption has fallen out of her. 

“I won’t have to, because you’ll tell them yourself,” Tina informs her, her voice falsely bright. Queenie does not move. Tina gives her a small nudge. Then a small shake. Her sister’s limbs flap around, as uselessly as a dolls. 

“Queenie?” Tina asks her hesitantly. She doesn’t reply to her soft plea. Tina’s finger nervously slips down to feel her pulse. She presses long and hard, but no thrum pulses against her fingertips. A crazed static begins to build behind her brain. 

“Queenie!” Tina’s voice has raised into a hysterical scream, “QUEENIE!” She leans down, pressing her cheek to her ruined chest. It does not bounce up and down with her heart. She can hear no soft inhalations. Not even any struggling ones. Oh god no. 

“Queenie wake up,” Tina shakes her sister by the shoulders vigorously, “Wake up, please!” 

A pair of frantic steps pound up the cathedrals aisle. There’s something wet on Tina’s face. She can’t tell if it’s her tears or her sisters blood. 

“TINA!” A familiar voice yells, a pair of footsteps pounding up to meet her. Tina can’t even find the strength to turn her head to meet him, “TINA!” Newt crashes down beside her, two small bundles strapped to his back. His eyes are wide and terrified as they cup her face. Tina can’t seem to stop crying. She falls into him hopelessly, beating her fists against his chest. 

“Tina, oh god,” Newt strokes her head Tina sobs into his chest. One of their boys are crying, she thinks it’s Arthur. She wanted Queenie to meet them. Seeing something in your head is never the same as seeing it in the flesh. And she wanted her sister to meet her children. Queenie’s lips have turned blue. 

“She won’t wake up,” Tina brushes her sister’s beautiful blonde hair neatly behind her ears, “Newt, why won’t she wake up?”

“She’s gone love,” Newt murmurs tightly in her ear. His arms are around her so tightly she’s afraid her ribs will snap. 

“No,” Tina disagrees faintly. No, she can’t be. Queenie’s her baby sister. She can’t die. At least not before her. Not before she had a chance to tell her family she was sorry. 

“I’m so sorry, Tina,” Newt whispers tenderly. Tina barely hears it. They did it. They won. But her sister is still cold on the floor. And she won’t wake again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	31. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of events in London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> Sorry it's taken me so long. Rather ironic that I updated more than studying for exams than i did on break. But here we are. Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Big thanks to Oceanicflights for betaing!

Tina sits slumped on a stump outside. Her clothes and hair and caked in blood. Her face would be too, if it wasn’t for the stream of tears that still pour down her cheeks. Newt calls her name, but she doesn’t seem to hear him. Tina stares straight forward, eyes glazed over, clearly somewhere else. She hugs her elbows tightly to her body, rocking back and forward. Newt makes his way carefully over to her, not wanting to spook her. 

She’d blathered the whole story to him over her sister’s body, as he held her tight to her body. Newt had wanted to leave as soon as possible, but Tina defiantly refused to leave without Queenie. She’d watched silently as Newt had gently wrapped her younger sister in a blanket and lowered her down safely into his case. And she hasn’t said a word since.   
Newt kneels in front of his wife. Tina doesn’t even flinch. He places a hand on her knee, rubbing small comforting circles into her thigh. Finally, she focuses on him. 

“Come on love,” Newt murmurs as gently as he can, “I’ve run you a bath,” Tina gives the tiniest of nods. He places an arm around her back, and together they shuffle towards the tents opening. 

Newt had flown them as far away as he could before Merlin started to get antsy. He’d spent hours setting up their tent last time, but last time he was angry at Tina and needed some sort of distraction. Tonight, it took nothing more than a wave of his wand. It’s set up exactly the same as last night. Their bed, his case, their twin baby boys he put down sleeping in their cot. The only difference is the wooden screen his set up, and the bath complete with steaming water behind it. Newt ushers her quickly to it. He doesn’t know what will help, but surely getting Tina out of the clothes covered with her sister’s blood is a good start.

“Let’s get these clothes off,” Newt says slowly and clearly, cupping her cheek. Tina begins blankly fiddling with the buttons on her wrists with sloppy fingers. Newt bats her hands away gently and begins doing the job for her; unbuttoning her shirt and undoing her pants. Tina lets him, tracing a finger over the dried blood stuck in her cuticles. After not to long she’s naked, and Newt holds her hand as she gets carefully into the hot liquid. Tina picks up the cloth he placed on the tubs rim and dunks it into the bath. 

“I’ll do it,” Newt says, gently manoeuvring the damp cloth from her grip. He smiles softly down at her as he begins to soothingly wash the blood from her skin; starting first and foremost on her arms that are red up to her elbows. 

“Thank you,” Tina whispers, her voice hoarse from miss use. She gives him a flicker of a smile and Newt kisses her on the forehead; making sure to avoid any places where blood has dried. They sit in a comfortable silence as Newt washes her from head to toe, making sure to give her tense muscles a massage on his way down. 

“She was the only person who used to call me Teenie,” Tina pipes up suddenly. Newt looks up from where he was rubbing the ball of her left foot, “No one on earth is going to call   
me that ever again,” 

“I’m so sorry,” Newt presses a comforting kiss to her ankle, “I hope you know how sorry I am,” Tina nods numbly, before stretching her hands up to the ceiling. 

“I know she did some bad things,” She says in a quiet voice, “But she was my little sister,” Newt smiles understandingly. Family is family. No matter what they’ve done. 

“I remember when she was afraid of the dark,” Tina continues, a small smile on her face which is full of remembrance, “I never got any sleep because Mama spelled a large floating light in our bedroom that was brighter than any candle,” She gives a small suppressed laugh, that is full of old joy. Newt smiles to himself. He can just see a baby Tina putting up with it to keep her sister happy, yawning over the breakfast table.

“She was so sweet,” Tina sounds teary again “She made pastries, loved singing, she went through a stage where she would not stop hugging my damn leg,”

“Why did she have to die?” Tina cries, her voice sounding like a wail on the wind. She looks up at him, her dark eyes begging him for the answer. Newt clears his throat, searching for the right words. 

“I’m not sure love, no one can be sure,” Newt sighs forlornly, not knowing what to say. He might call Theseus an ugly bastard sometimes, and sometimes he was truly an unforgivable arse. But he’d never want to watch him die in front of him, even if he had turned evil, “It just might have been fate,” As soon as the words leave his lips, he realises it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Tina’s hands grip the bathtubs rim, tight enough that her blood has left her cuticles. 

“Fate,” Tina mutters drily, dunking her head under the water. Newt watches as the water darkens with more blood, bubbling up on the surface like a morbid lagoon. Tina resurfaces, her hair sticking to her forehead and shoulders like a weedy octopus. 

“Yes fate, maybe that prophecy Dumbledore recited came true,” Newt shrugs, massaging the base of her tense neck, “What’s wrong with fate?” Tina manages to look stern, even with her nose as bright as a cherry and her eyes wringed red. 

“Fate is something you can’t control,” She argues stubbornly, “If all our lives are being control by a magical force, what is the point of trying to make decisions in the first place?” Tina has the ability to debate without crying. Newt does not. 

“I’m not saying it’s always a good thing to believe in,” He says stubbornly, furiously trying to blink the tears away from his eyes. 

“It’s never a good thing!” Tina screeches and it makes Newt feel about ten times worse, “Queenie turning evil, Leta’s baby dying, Queenie dying…that was all up to some morose god was it? So they had no chance at all?” She moves erratically forward in the tub, and the water moves like a tidal wave up and over the edge. Newt’s socks are immediately sodden, and he squirms up his nose at the sensation. Tina’s scream tingles in the air. A loud baby’s cry breaks the silence. His parents stare at each other. Tina collapses back in the stained bath water, the fight fallen out of her. 

“I’m sorry, that was my fault,” She speaks loud enough that he can hear over their babies' cry, but keeps her gaze to her knees, “I shouldn’t have yelled,” Newt takes a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose as someone else also begins screaming. Both of them. Great. Perhaps placing Arthur and Merlin in the same cot isn’t the best idea. 

“I’ll take care of them,” Newt offers tiredly. Being a father is fantastic, but he’s really not going to miss the ear-splitting crying, “Are you going to be okay until I get back?”

“I hope so,” Tina flashes him a wan smile, before laying back, her neck settling against the cool marble her eyes squeezed shut. 

\---------------------------------- 

It takes a while to settle the boys properly. Everything time Newt manages to get one down, the other one wakes him up. Eventually Newt gives up, placing a muffliato charm on the both of them, so when they settle, they’ll stay settled. By the time Arthur finally dozes off, Tina has relieved herself of the bath and its ruby red water. Newt watches as she wraps a towel around herself. He can’t deny it cheers him to see her unbloodied. But there’s nothing cheery about the expression on her face. 

“Look Tina,” Newt begins firmly, tucking his hands in his pockets, “About what I said before,”

“There was no stopping my sister’s death,” Tina hikes up the towel around her chest, “I remember, I got it,” The firelight makes her pale skin look golden. The heated flames dancing in her eyes burn red hot. Newt forces himself to look into her eyes. He’s got something he wants to say. Something she clearly doesn’t understand. 

“There are many lines to fate,” Newt takes a small, yet firm step forward. Then another. Tina turns to one side, physically giving him the cold shoulder. He ignores her easily, used to her looking like a thundercloud. 

“It doesn’t mean everything is set in stone,” He continues, rather feeling like he’s whacking through a forest of nasty thorns with a sword, “Or that our decisions don’t have power,” Tina’s eye line swings tentatively towards him, quickly darting back when she notices his resilient eye-contact. 

“It just means that what decisions we make cause some dominos to fall and others to lie still,” Newt says, shrugging. Tina is still look determinedly into the tub. The water is still stained a murky red. Her toes are curling on the carpet. 

“Does that make sense?” Tina huffs quietly, but it isn’t a sound of dissent. He’s close enough to see the reflective water droplets, dry on her skin. Newt reaches out, ready to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Before he can however Tina swings out of his reach. She marches over to stand in one corner, her foot tapping rhythmically her eyebrows twisting together painfully.

“So it means I should’ve done something then,” Tina states hoarsely, “Something different, something earlier, just something,” She grinds her teeth together tersely. Newt walks over to her again, sadly this time instead of determinedly. One of Tina’s hand is clenched around her mother’s necklace firmly, as if it’s going to disappear into a pile of dust. As if she were a raging beast he makes sure not to touch her, but looks clearly into her eye making sure to hold her complete attention. 

“Tina listen to me,” Newt says carefully, “It was not your fault,” He makes sure to punctuate each word. He knows how regret, and what ifs can eat away at you until you’re left with nothing except wishing away your tomorrow. Newt doesn’t want her to end up like he was two years ago, alone in a castle, stuck reliving old memories without making any new ones. Tears pool in Tina’s eyes, and her teeth worry at her bottom lip. She twists the metal of her neck lace, round and round until it’s a rigid snake. Newt’s hope shatters on the floor. She doesn’t believe him. 

“But-“ Tina squeaks helplessly. 

“No, listen,” Newt immediately interrupts. She needs to listen. She needs to understand. 

“If you had gone earlier, when you were five months pregnant perhaps,” Newt waves a vague hand, trying his best to not get caught up in memories when everything was fine, and everyone was happy, “God knows what would’ve happened to you or the children,” He can still feel the weight of Merlin in his arms, can see Arthur in his mind eye. He remembers how Tina wanted to ride off in the snow to get to Leta. How long he sat beside her as she lay quietly unconscious. How the midwife had taken him aside and told him that neither his younger son nor wife would be alive unless they had performed that operation. What would’ve happened if she went into labour in a camp site? Would’ve it have been Theseus wrapped around him as he sobbed over Tina’s corpse? 

“But Queenie might’ve lived,” Tina argues tightly, with not a thought of her own safety. A strange smile falls to Newt’s lips. His wife would truly wage war if it meant the people she loved were safe; damn what it meant for herself. But you can’t save everyone. It’s a lesson he finally truly learnt on his dragon ride, as the smell of dead men rose up into the air. It’s not as simple as a life for a life; but it’s damn close. 

“And Arthur and Merlin and you might be dead,” Newt argues back, fiercely, “I thank god every day you went in labour at Hogwarts, where there were nurses and Leta to take care of you,” He takes her hand and she lets him. Tina’s touch is weak and her palm clammy- he thinks it only has half to do with the fact she was just soaking in a bath. She unwound her necklaces chain and it sits tenderly on her free palm. Newt can clearly picture a lock of red and black hair caught inside it. 

“No,” Tina whispers faintly. Though ‘no’ what, Newt can’t be sure. 

“If you had had that same labour surrounded by a gang of Grindelwald and his followers, or worse out in the wilderness somewhere, with no shelter or proper treatment,” Newt shakes his head, his face screwed up in despondency, “you would be dead Tina. So, most likely, would our children,” 

“But what if I hadn’t have gone at all,” Tina asks him hastily. Her arms crossed so tightly across her chest that her towel has slipped down a tad. He would’ve been distracted had it not been for the seriousness of their conversation. Because Newt can’t honestly deny it. 

“Then maybe…” Newt trails off uncertainly, now not wanting to speak his opinion. He wants to move forward, not backwards. It’s too late however, and Tina’s eyes have narrowed dangerously. 

“Say it,” She barks, like a regimental solider. Newt feels his eyes roll to high heaven. He swore he wouldn’t cry again. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t have happened,” Newt ends up mumbling indiscernibly. Tina of course, with the hearing of a fox, picks it up anyway. 

“So if I didn’t go she might still be alive?” She sounds as though she just ran ten miles, her tongue loose and jittery, “Then it’s still all my fault!” Tina collapses into him, her head a dull weight against his chest. He threads his fingers firmly through her own, as she croaks ‘my fault, my fault, my fault,’ again and again into his collar. Newt runs his hands through her damp hair in comfort. 

“Tina you wanted to help her, you wanted to bring her home!” He cries, wishing desperately there was a spell to banish these thoughts from her head, “You were better than the rest of us, you were the only person besides Jacob who even wanted to try,” 

“But she still would’ve lived!” Tina stresses, and wet splodges appear on his shirt, “Queenie wouldn’t have had to protect me, Grindelwald wouldn’t have killed her!” Tears rush down his own at her clear pain. He doesn’t want to add to it. But the truth does hurt sometimes. Most of the time really. 

“From what you’ve said…I believe you were the catalyst Tina,” Newt murmurs as gently as he can, “She would’ve have broken out of it, but only if she had someone like you to fight for,” Tina retracts from his embrace so fast, that Newt has almost no time to make sure he’s still holding on to her hand. He holds on tight, even as Tina tries angrily to pry off his fingers. 

“That’s not true,” Tina spits like a viper, her eyes narrowed to slits, “She wanted to change, she did,” The zeal in her voice would be enough for most people to believe her. But he remembers when Tina came running to his arms distraught from a mere talk with her sister. It’s important to forgive. But you should never forget. 

“She was too far gone my darling,” Newt reaches out to cup her cheek. 

“No,” Tina bats his advancement away with a slap of her hand. 

“Yes,” Newt repeats, swallowing his hurt. No doubt there will be a Tina shaped mark on his hand, “And if she wasn’t, I think then Grindelwald would’ve killed her anyway for betraying him,” Tina looks lost now, the fire behind her eyes hazy. She wipes beneath the cheek with the base of her palm, like a small child. 

“Do you really think Grindelwald would’ve killed her anyway?” Tina asks petulantly, her bitten lips caught in a pout, “Even if I didn’t show up?” 

“Maybe,” Newt says truthfully, knowing he must follow it up with something more certain for her. Worrying about that sort of stuff makes you suffer twice; especially when it’s already happened, “It depends what decisions Queenie made, what dominos fell,” 

Tina’s mouth hangs softy agape, and she taps her foot furiously on the ground. Her lips keep twisting as if she is coming up with multiple ideas. Newt frowns, knowing what she’s doing. Still coming up with a platoon full of ideas in which her sister’s death was no one’s fault but her own. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Newt orders her sharply. 

“I’m not,” Tina bites back immediately. All the fight falls out of her though, when Newt shoots her a disbelieving glance, “I mean, I’m trying not to,” Newt nods, proudly. That’s all he wants her to do. Try. It’ll take a bit of time. But if anyone can do it, it’s his Tina. 

“There’s just so many things I wanted to say, wanted to do. And I just really miss her,” Tina hugs her arms around herself, her eyes misty in memories. 

“Tina, love,” Newt’s voice drips with real sympathy, “Come here,” He opens his arms and Tina tumbles into them, shuddering as she sobs. 

“Let’s go to bed okay? You must be exhausted,” Tina nods slowly, her head seemingly dragging with the weight of her skull. Newt smiles fondly, pulling his wand from his pocket and waving it over her. Immediately her skin and hair and pinged dry, and her damp towel has been transformed into a white, soft nightie. Tina vaguely fingers her slightly poufy hair instead of thanking him. 

“Let’s go,” Newt murmurs gently, sweeping her off her feet. Tina snuggles into him, swiping her fingers through his floppy hair appreciatively. He lays her carefully on her side of the bed, and Tina curls up in a ball like a kitten. Newt places a sweet kiss on her forehead, before turning to the boys, making sure they’re settled before he too settles down for the night. Arthur and Merlin are both curled up like they’re Mama, fast asleep. Thank god for small mercies, that both are far too young to remember any of this. Poor, poor Queenie and Jacob’s children. 

“They alright?” Tina’s voice hums from their blankets, forever the worried mother. 

“They’re perfect,” Newt slushes her easily, padding back to the bed and shedding most of his outer wear.

“Newt,” Tina’s fingers swirl in soft circles on his chest, “Are we okay?” Newt presses his lips together. He knows what she means. In the last few days, weeks, months really, their lives have been so restless. Tragic in places. The honeymoon stage for them has truly disappeared, and if their last few spats have anything to say about it they won’t be agreeing on everything any time soon. Newt stares down at Tina’s nervous eyes. He can’t deny he’s not looking forward to their fights. But he is looking forward to starting the rest of their life together. 

“I think so,” Newt murmurs smiling, “And I know we’re going to be,” Tina snuffles, a happy little sound that’s slightly muffled in his chest. Newt presses a soft kiss to her forehead. It’s the first time she’s sounded happy since the incident. In some way it centres him as well. Tells him that one day she will be truly happy again. And that makes him happy. 

“And why is that?” Tina asks, blinking up at him sleepily. 

“Because I love you,” Newt replies simply. She smiles toothily up at him, and he leans down to kiss her on the nose. 

“How much?” Tina yawns, tucking her leg in between his own. Newt sighs. He’s thought about this before, but could never come up with an answer. Tina’s staring at him expectantly. 

“To the moon and back,” He ends up whispering, “Right into the stars, until the end of the universe,”

“You’re a cheesy bugger sometimes,” Tina mutters embarrassed, but he can tell she’s pleased, “Did you know that?” Newt chuckles, clutching her closer to him. He’s less tired than her, even though he got less sleep last night. He wanted to remember what it was like to hold her, in case he never saw her again. Tina drifted off as easily as breathing though; from stress probably. He hadn’t exactly been fair to her. 

“How much do you love me?” Newt asks tentatively, breaking their comfortable silence. Tina looks up at him as if he’s an idiot to even doubt the extent of her affection. Which, he supposes, he is. 

“I… I can’t even,” Tina shakes her head dimly, as if trying to do a difficult multiplication. “It’s incalculable,” Newt smiles so wide his lips strain with the effort. 

“Then we’re okay,” He says simply, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Tina whispers, weak happiness pouring of her every pore, crawling up to kiss him. 

There’s nothing desperate about it, not like last night. It’s sweet and soft and sad, their long limbs tangling together till Newt didn’t know where he began or Tina started. 

“I love you Newt,” Tina says sleepily in between kisses, and Newt’s heart soars. He hopes desperately she never stops saying that. Not until they are old and grey. 

“I love you too, Tina,” Newt replies tenderly before returning to her embrace. Who would’ve thought the stranger he married all those months ago has turned into the woman he trusts and admires most in the world. The woman who’s given him happiness and his darling children. Fate. It causes truly terrible things to happen. But, Newt smiles as Tina snuggles down into his chest, it causes truly miraculous things to happen too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think


	32. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> This is officially the last chapter! Omg, i cannot believe it. This has been a wild ride, and I'd just like to thank you all! I've never written anything this long before in my entire life. it's taken me half a year and I still can't quite believe how many people have given kudos or left comments, and I just wanted you to know that it means so much to me!
> 
> I hope everyone has a merry christmas (or whatever people are celebrating!) and a happy new year, and I look forward to seeing you (in a figurative sense of course) in 2020!!
> 
> Thank you so much Oceanicflights for betaing this chapter and I hope everyone enjoys!

Five years later 

Dearest Tina,

I’m glad Spain is agreeing with you all. I’m surprised you haven’t had a heart attack thanks to Arthur’s antics. Though I laughed for hours about how Merlin told him off. You can certainly see who the lovely twins take after! Give them both a kiss for me, and an especially a big one for Guinevere, who sounds like she’s turning into a gorgeous young lady.   
Order Newt to fly you back here soon, I feel as though I’m missing everything. Who is this mysterious girl Credence has been seeing? I know you said you don’t want to pry, but please. For me. (I’m your sister you’re legally required to!) 

We’re going alright. It’s strange, but it feels like we’ve finally settling in to our new lives- five years later and it finally feels normal. Theseus is thoroughly enjoying being Minster of Magic (surprise, surprise; don’t worry I sit in on all the meetings). Isabella is really enjoying court life, and always wants to sit next to her father during everything. She takes the responsibility of being heir extremely seriously, and is already showing signs of being a great minster one day. I was worried, but she’s taken too it like a duck to water. Theseus is so proud and so am I. Katherine thanks you very much for the new sword; she’s practicing every day, often right next to Albert Kowalski. I know they’re young, but it’s not too early to hope is it? They will be such an adorable couple. (Plus, I don’t think you have any legs to stand on for arguing about people in arranged marriages not ending up perfectly happy). 

Jacob is…going okay from what we’ve heard from Teddy. He’s still keeping your castle warm for your return, and I think he’s enjoying the quiet up in Scotland. He’s going to come down for Albert’s birthday, but I don’t know how long he’ll stay. He still can’t stand to be in London for too long, as you know. I think he’s healing though, slowly. I think we all are. 

Give Newt a big hug and a kiss from Theseus and me, and hope to see you all soon, 

Love Leta

XOXO

Tina leans up to kiss Newt first on the cheek, then on the forehead and then on the lips. Newt’s brow furrows, but he pecks her tenderly back in any case. 

“Leta and Theseus send their love,” Tina explains to his questioning gaze, “And I wanted to kiss you,” Newt smiles, pressing his nose into her cheek. 

“Ah,” He whispers happily, his lips ghosting over her skin, “How’s Jacob?” Newt asks her, his voice lowering to seriousness. 

“A bit better I think,” Tina twirls the paper sadly between her fingertips. Her brother in law suffered the worst from Queenie’s death. She herself was not well for a while. But at least she was by her sister’s side as she died. The last time Jacob saw Queenie was just before he gave her the slip to race back to Hogwarts all those years ago. 

Tina tries her best to bat away these gloomy thoughts. The evening is too beautiful to linger on the past. They’re all at the beach; Newt, Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere and herself. Credence, who has been joining them on their adventures, is busy up in the village entertaining a pretty young woman he’s met called Nagini. They’ve been to France, along the edges of the Holy Roman Empire, and now finally they’re working their way along the Spanish coast. The adults in their party are currently deliberating whether or not to go home, or go west. Though Tina can’t deny it would be sweet to see their family again. The sight in front of her, of her children playing in the sand underneath a golden sunset… how could they possibly leave? 

Tina is leaning tiredly up against Newt’s shoulder. Their arms are stuck out behind them, and are busy holding themselves up on the sinking sand. Her own pinkie finger is over-twined with his own. She reaches over to stick the folded up letter in her beach bag.

“Mama, Papa, look at this!” Arthur yells out, immediately getting his parents attention. Knowing him it could either be a crab he’s found or he’s just broken his arm. Thankfully though it’s just their eldest son attempting to do a cartwheel. His legs are slightly bent, but he makes it all the way around and Tina and Newt clap approvingly. 

“One day you’re going to fall on your head,” Merlin calls disinterestedly, leaning down to pick up another shell to add to his collection. 

“I bet you can’t do one,” Arthur retorts grinning. Merlin’s jaw immediately tightens and his parents smile knowing at each other. Merlin Scamander never backs down from his twin’s challenge. The brothers immediately start a cartwheel competition, where they both want to win and are both critiquing each other. Tina rests her head against Newt’s chest, smiling as their boys argue incessantly. 

Their third and youngest child is busy making a sandcastle. Her strawberry blonde curls bounce all over her head, like a wild halo. Guinevere’s bright blue eyes are squinted in concentration as she drapes her last piece of seaweed on top of her precarious creation. Tina smiles as her daughter claps happily to herself. She really is a sweetheart, and every day she reminds her more and more of a baby Queenie. 

“Papa,” Guinevere bobbles carefully over to her parents, cradling something in her chest, “Pick, pick,” Their daughter holds out Newt’s bowtruckle called Pickett on her two chubby hands. The creature has fallen asleep, and Guinevere cradles it gently, as she passes him to her father. Tina gently tucks her curls behind Guinevere’s ear, as Newt beams his daughter. 

“Thank you Evie darling,” Newt places a slumbering Pickett on top of his case that’s seated next to him. Evie nods, before placing her thumb safely in her mouth. There’s a red tinge to her cheeks from the summer sun, and sand all over the front of her skirt. 

“You alright sweetling?” Tina asks her, noticing the slight sway to her features. She’s going to be out like a light once they get back to their villa, “Not too tired?” Evie considers this for a moment, before taking her thumb out of her mouth with a pop. 

“I like beach,” She answers her mother vaguely, the corners of her mouth poking up happily. 

“I like beach too,” Tina tries to brush off the majority of the sand on her daughter’s clothes before she waddles off again. This time to where her brothers are splashing each other relentlessly in the waves. 

“Evie, not in the water okay?” Tina warns, trying unsuccessfully to get the anxious note out of her voice. Guinevere’s pout, is almost, but not quite enough to melt her judgement. Her little feet stamp in the sand and her bottom lip trembles. Merlin stomps around of the sea, to studiously take her hand. 

“I’ll look out for her Mama, I promise,” He swears solemnly. 

“I don’t think-” Tina begins, noting how Merlin’s five year old legs are only slightly taller than her daughters. She can practically see the wave knocking them to the sand. Tina’s in the middle of opening her mouth to say something, when her husband interrupts her. 

“Good lad, Merlin,” Newt pipes up, with a caring smile, “We know you’ll look out for her,” Merlin’s tiny chest puffs up in pride, and he nods at his father firmly.

“We won’t let Evie drown,” Arthur screams out enthusiastically, waving his arms “Don’t worry!” He flicks up sea water from his toes at his sister, who giggles happily. Funnily enough that doesn’t settle Tina’s anxieties. 

“Newton,” Tina complains, digging her hand irately into his side. Newt, like usual, is as cool as a cucumber to her bounding blood pressure. 

“They’ll be fine love,” Newt wraps his arm around her snugly, “Worrying makes you suffer twice,” He looks out to where their children are splashing and screaming a serene smile on his face. Tina watches them too, playing anxiously with the fabric of her skirt.

“You’d better be worried,” Tina replies to his carefree comment in an annoyed undertone. Her eyes focus themselves firmly out to sea, as she feels his eyes boring into her. 

“I am,” Newt’s eyes twinkle, and he smiles dopily at her, “Worried about falling more in love with you,” Tina’s heart patters against her chest and she wets her lips. Dammit. How can she possibly rebuff that? She looks down at their entwined hands, blushing to the roots of her hair. 

“I hate you,” Tina mumbles. She sometimes feels like she won’t ever stop blushing when he says things like that. She hopes she never does. Newt chuckles, looking pleased with himself. 

“Aha!” He kisses the side of her cheek, sloppily with his excitement, “I win,” Tina sticks out her tongue, wiping her wet cheek with the back of her hand and trying to swat him with the left overs of his own saliva. Newt tries to wiggle out of the way. But Tina clambers on top of him, pressing his torso to the ground with her thighs. Her husband smirks up at her teasingly at their risqué positioning, and Tina tries her best not to smile. 

“Do you want to join them?” Tina nods her head towards their children. Newt turns own eyes to watch them, his face a picture of tranquillity. 

“Do you even have to ask?” He asks her tenderly. 

Tina gets to her feet, careful not to step on Newt. She holds out her hand and heaves him up. They half walk, half run towards the waves. Newt squeezes her hips as the chilly sea water splashes up their ankles, and Tina squeals. 

“Mama! Papa!” Their children chorus. Arthur is so busy running towards them he doesn’t notice the wave that rises up and dunks him, leaving him soaked to the skin and laughing hysterically. Merlin has his tried his best to lift Guinevere up over his shoulders, as Newt is so oft to do. But his five-year-old limbs are not quite strong enough, and Tina catches a squealing Evie just before she falls off her brothers back. 

She presses her daughter to her hip, and Eve immediately places her mother’s necklace in her mouth. Newt is enthusiastically splashing his sons, who are giving back everything they’ve got; Arthur with breathless glee, Merlin with quiet intensity. 

Tina looks around at her family, bouncing her squirming toddler on her hip. Newt’s grinning in the wild manner he only lets the most important people in his life see. Arthur looks rather like a fish, and Merlin is wearing a piece of seaweed like a crown. Evie has graduated to playing with her long damp curls, but Tina can’t even feel the pull. 

“What?” Newt mouths over their son’s heads, as Tina gets knocked around by a particularly large wave she was definitely not observing. 

“Nothing,” Tina replies, snorting seawater out of her nose, “I’m just happy,” 

“Me too!” Arthur chirps, and Tina chuckles under her breath, ruffling his ruddy hair. 

“Me three,” Newt whispers, leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips. Their boys clearly voice their united disgust at their parent’s intimacy. Guinevere pats her father’s cheek, noting nothing but her papa’s closeness. Happiness. It’s a thing she’s felt most days for the past six years. Even when the boys got the flu, and Newt was obsessively anxious when she was pregnant with Evie. There’s been bad days sure, but the good outweighs them so much Tina can hardly remember them anymore. 

There was a time where she didn’t think happily ever after was a thing that would ever happen to her. But now, surrounded by her children and her loving husband, Tina can’t help but believe that it has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


End file.
